Talk Sense to a Fool & He Calls You Foolish
by Theriechenbachevent
Summary: The founding of Hogwarts comes at a price when Arthur exiles Merlin for having Magic. Circumstances force Merlin to live as a woman and ends up becoming guardian to 4 small children. Years later, his path crosses with Arthur again. But with the memory of betrayal so fresh in their minds, can they over come the prejudices built over years of distrust and hatred?
1. Again

**Chapter 1: Again**

The moment the words left his lips, Merlin knew that life as he knew it was over. That was further cemented by the fact that there was now the tip of a sword braced very carefully in the small of his back.

"You're a sorcerer." The words were quiet. There was none of the shouting or yelling that Merlin had expected. But he didn't make the mistake of assuming that meant Arthur was not angry. Merlin kept very still and answered as succinctly as possible.

"I am."

The pressure on his back increased.

"And you never thought to tell me?"

Behind Arthur, the knights shifted uneasily. Gwaine's eyes flitted between Merlin's face and Arthur's. Normally, he'd come swinging at Arthur, telling him to lay off and think rationally before passing judgment. But everyone present knew that speaking to the King was out of question. His hold on his sense of reason was tenuous at best, any upset, from anything, would be disastrous.

Merlin didn't pause in his response to Arthur.

"Everyday. I thought about telling you everyday. But where would that have gotten me? Exactly where I am now. I can't protect you from the dungeons, Arthur, or from the abyss. I needed my head on my shoulders to make sure you were safe."

Arthur flinched at the bluntness of Merlin's words. Images of Merlin's detached head flashed through his mind. Somehow, the thought that Merlin expected unequivocally to die at his hands hurt, and he eased the sword back a bit.

Then he remembered, why Merlin thought he would die in the first place and pushed the sword back to its original place, with slightly more force than before. Merlin, to his credit, said nothing, he just waited for Arthur to say something.

"What makes you think I need your protection." He said the words in the same calm tone, now colored with condescension. "I need nothing from you, sorcerer. Not your help. Not your protection. Not -" Arthur paused minutely, as if he weighing whether he truly meant what he was about to say. He continued. "Not you. I don't need you."

The calm that Merlin had worked so hard to control, finally broke.

"Arthur -"

"Enough" Arthur shoved Merlin forward with the point of his sword. "I won't be enchanted by the things you say, not anymore."

"Arthur please -"

"Don't. You no longer have the right to say my name. You lost it when you chose evil over the good of Camelot. You covet power more than you coveted my friendship!" Now Arthur was the one beginning to lose his control, his face losing its color as he realized the true meaning of Merlin's power. The knights took a small step forward, unsure of this turn of events.

"You would choose corruption over your place at my side." He said it with such finality that Merlin closed his eyes, the tears running freely down his face. He didn't turn, afraid of what he would see in Arthur's eyes if he did.

"Never, Ar – My King, never -"

"Leave."

Lancelot's eyes widened. He couldn't possibly mean -?

At Merlin's silence, Arthur repeated his command. Louder this time, his voice echoing through the castle grounds.

"Leave Camelot. You are no longer welcome. As a sign of the friendship we once shared, I give you this last act of leniency. I will not seek your death, Merlin of Ealdor – if that is truly who you are. Disappear from my sight, and you will keep your life."

Merlin scarcely believed what he was hearing. Arthur refused to hear him out? Refused him a trial. Refused him even the slightest fraction of doubt. The seeds of hurt settled in his heart, but he had a destiny to fulfill.

"I deserve a trial at the least, before I am banished."

"YOU DESERVE NOTHING, LIAR!"

Merlin jumped at Arthur's roar, the hurt blatantly palpable in his voice. "You will leave at once, or die by hand, the choice is yours." The quiet the reigned following Arthur's declaration was tense. Merlin's faith in his King shattered. Gone was the fair, just and compassionate King that had inherited Camelot's throne. In his place stood a man full of fury and hurt by betrayal.

Try as he might, Merlin could not help that the sliver of hurt grew, struck by the finality of his King's judgment. It filled his heart, until he was overcome with it, and without another word, ran towards the side gates of the castle, reserved for supply deliveries. He resisted the urge to look back at the desperate calls from Gwaine and Lancelot, screaming for him to return.

Merlin ran into the forest and with hot tears streaming from his eyes, whispered a plea to the heaven's to protect him.

As if it heard him, the sky split with an earth shattering thunderclap and poured rain down upon Camelot.

Inside the castle walls, Arthur watched the man he had once called his best friend, disappear.

A single thought echoed up to the gods that night, and they were unsure which of the two it belonged to. The Boy-King or the Sorcerer.

He had been betrayed.

Again.


	2. Mistress Elladora

**Chapter 2: Mistress Elladora**

By the time Merlin came back to himself, he had no idea how far he had walked or for how long. It seemed to be past sunset, although the torrential rainfall made it harder to tell time. He was soaked to the bone, and shivering, and wrapping his thin arms around himself seemed to offer no warmth.

After ten minutes more of walking, Merlin spied a shallow raised cleft under a hill, just up ahead and hurried into it, eager for some respite against the deluge. As he stood, shaking excess water off of himself, Merlin wondered how things had gone from bad to infinitely worse.

One second they had been fighting a Griffin that had been trying to scale the castle parapets, and when he had seen it fell their knights one by one, Merlin knew they were going to be no match for a creature of that size and agility. Then it had turned and set its sights on Arthur who was struggling to get up from a blow it had landed just moments ago. Before even thinking about it, Merlin had flung himself in front of his King, throwing both hands in front of him and yelled as loud as he possibly could.

" ** _ábæde!"_**

It had sent the Griffin screeching away, most likely to regroup, but the damage was done. Merlin had outed himself in probably the least effective way possible. Merlin thought of the hurt sound to Arthur's voice, that had been all he could see. His sword had made it so Merlin had no choice but to freeze in the position he was in. All he could discern was that to Arthur, Merlin had chosen to corrupt himself for power, rather than to serve faithfully at his side.

Merlin sniffed, coughing slightly and peered out in the rain. What shocked Merlin however, was Arthur's absolute _refusal_ to see past the magic. He had made his assumptions about Magic and couldn't even try to fathom a semblance of fairness. In light of Merlin's loyalty, was he not worth even that small token of justice?

 _But would the outcome have been any different?_ A voice in his head whispered. _Instead your head would sit, proudly displayed on a spike come tomorrow morning._ Merlin shook his head. No, Arthur wouldn't have done that to him. Arthur was different. He wasn't Uther. But the traitorous voice in his head persisted.

 _Are you sure?_

Even when Arthur had banished Gwenivere from Camelot for her supposed dalliance with Lancelot, (which turned out to be an illusion by Morgana), his King had shown lesser anger than the fury he'd shown in announcing Merlin's exile. There had been no deliberation, no thought, just an instant ultimatum. Just two options.

Stay and die, or leave and live.

What had happened to the King he had put his trust in? The one that promised fair dealings with Druids? Was magic so bad? Why could he not see Merlin's loyalty behind his magic? Why did everyone insist on defining him by the one thing he had no control over?

 _Why?_

"Oooh. Looky looky. Boss. We got one!"

Merlin started at the nasally voice coming from above him. He looked up to see a head hanging from the top of the cave. He blinked in astonishment, as the head disappeared and two seconds later, a group of people crowded the entrance to the cave brandishing long spears and swords, peering at his huddled figure. A man, who appeared to be there leader stepped forward and grabbed Merlin by the chin, moving his head from side to side, almost inspecting him. He was big burly, with a thick shock of brown hair. His face was large, pudgy, with eyes that sunk into their sockets and thin, reedy lips.

Merlin looked at the state of the group behind the leader and had to physically resist the urge to sigh when the man nodded in satisfaction, grinning toothily, revolting a revolting set of rotting yellow teeth.

"Mm. He's a good 'un. He'll fetch a good price with the noblefolk this 'un will."

 _Just my luck. The day I leave Camelot, I get picked by slave traders. This day just keeps getting better and better._

The slave traders wasted no time in securing Merlin's wrists in iron manacles and dragging him to their caravan. As they approached it, Merlin saw that their party consisted of one horse drawn wrought iron cage that already had one person inside it and 6 other horses. All in all, it was a party of 7 men and now 2 prisoners.

He was roughly manhandled into the cage, and unceremoniously cuffed to one of the bars on the cage side. The girl on the opposite side of their prison had barely moved since he got in, save for peering cautiously through the curtain of her red hair, big and unruly. It had barely been seconds since he'd sat on the hard floor, when the driver of their caravan snapped his reins, urging the horse into motion. Almost immediately they went over an uneven portion of ground, sending the cage bouncing harshly in the air and causing the young woman to slide ungracefully across the floor and right into Merlin's lap.

"Ouch! Sorry. I didn't mean to – are you alright?" She finally used a hand to push her curly hair out of her face for the first time, but Merlin found he couldn't concentrate seeing as he was pretty sure he had just ruined any chance he would ever have of having children by the collision they had just had. He raised his bound hands ineffectually, in lieu of words, reassuring her he was fine.

"I'm fi-fine. Ah! that's going to smart later." He looked closer at her. She didn't look like a peasant or a servant girl.

"What's a girl like you doing mixed up with slave traders?" The girl looked miserable at the reminder of their situation.

"I was just coming home from visiting family in another village. I thought I could take a short to get back to Camelot, but here I am." She pushed her hair to the front again, framing her face from both sides and Merlin got the distinct impression that she was used to using her hair as a shield.

"My name is Lianora. How did you get caught?" Merlin scowled as he thought about it.

"I was looking for shelter from this insanity, and another kind of madness caught me instead." Lianora snorted.

"Madness is definitely how I would describe it. Raedus cares nothing of his wares – which is us in case that wasn't clear- I've been here less than a week, but the woman who was here before I was, died in an attempt to escape. She barely made it a foot out of the camp before she was sighted. " Lianora began to take on a bit of a greenish pallor as she remembered the unfortunate woman.

"It was brutal and ugly. Nothing like the swift death one would hope for."

Merlin was silent, his brain whirring with possibilities and plans.

"Lianora, where exactly are we?" She looked surprised at the turnaround in the line of questioning but went with it.

"You don't know? We're about half a day's walk from Camelot, at the northern border. Raedus intends to sell us off to Lord Claudas, in King Pellinor's Kingdom. The thing's that man is famous for.." Lianora didn't finish the sentence and shivered as Merlin fell into a thoughtful silence.

Later that night, Merlin listened with a sick stomach as the men gathered around a fire, feasting on a deer and recounting the death of the woman Lianora had mentioned. It made him think of Arthur, how furious he would be to learn that slave traders were operating his Kingdom. Merlin thought about his predicament. He would be lying if he said he didn't resent Arthur somewhat. But in the same breath he knew he couldn't hate Arthur. Hate his actions maybe, but never Arthur.

. . . . . . . .

In that moment, Merlin made his decision. Destiny may have said that Arthur needed his protection, but it never Merlin had to be right next to him to do it. He would live his own life, he decided. Whether it be rich or a poor one. He would live life on his own terms. Maybe he would even fall in love. Merlin paused at that, watching as the men got ready to turn in for the night, with a scrawny thin man taking the first watch. Alright, maybe falling in love was stretching it a bit. What he even do with a girl – or a boy, he wasn't picky – by falling in love with them? They would die eventually and Merlin would be doomed to grow ancient without aging forever, wallowing in grief for eternity.

 _Stop it._ Merlin told himself sternly. _That's a road I promised I would never follow._

Merlin realized that the camp had finally grown still and sat up straight from his slouching position inside the cage, his sore back protesting the movement. He reached over and nudged the sleeping Lianora with his knee, waking her up from her unsatisfactory sleep. She groaned and turned over to lay on her back, opening one eye to hiss at him in annoyance.

" _What? What could you possibly wa-"_

 _"_ Shhhh! Quiet. You'll give us away!" Merlin motioned her to be quiet and sit up. She looked at him quizzically but did it anyway. Merlin leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"What I'm about to do right now might come as a shock, but you have to _be quiet_ or we'll both die." She nodded confusedly, using her hands to push her hair back and watched him.

Merlin looked at his manacles and let his eyes flash golden as he quickly snapped them in two, freeing his hands. Lianora squeaked, clapping both hands over her mouth, eyes wide. Merlin nervously watched the guard to make sure he hadn't heard anything. Once he was satisfied that he hadn't, he turned to Lianora and did the same to her ankle cuffs.

"You have magic." She was whispered, slightly uneasy all of a sudden. Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Now isn't the time to play bigot Lianora. You can hate me later, right now let's just get out of here. Alright?"

Merlin turned and grabbed the closest two bars and took a deep breath only to be stopped by Lianora's timid hand on his forearm.

"I'm not a bigot. You just...surprised me. That's all. No one would willingly reveal themselves as sorcerers to just anyone. We're strangers. I could tell people about you. Aren't you worried?" Merlin gave her a tight smile.

"I'm sure Lianora, that whoever you tell, would go to tell King Arthur and I already know what the verdict will be. So no, to answer your question. There is very little that truly frightens me now."

Without much ceremony, Merlin wrenched the bars apart wide enough to slide through with the whispered phrase of

 ** _"beáh"_**

Lianora took a moment to be in awe of Merlin's powers, then quickly pulled herself together and shimmied out of the cage after Merlin. They immediately took refuge behind the tree that their prison had been placed in front, and crept to where the lone man continued his night watch. Merlin weighed his options here. If he chose to knock him out through physical means, he had to absolutely sure that he could do it one try. Since that was likely to fail, Merlin decided to use his magic – again – and put him to sleep gently.

He gestured for Lianora to follow him to where the slave traders had picketed their horses. He quickly got Lianora settled upon a horse that had provisions to last her until sunset tomorrow before he un-tethered all the horses and found one for himself. He hopped on and trotted his horse over to her.

"Listen, this is where we split up. You're probably going to go back to Camelot, right?"

She nodded, biting her lip in uncertainty, eyes trained on his face,

"Alright." He waved his hand over her, eyes glowing gold before he waved them over himself. Lianora had to physically had to restrain her gasp. Merlin had gone from looking like a strapping young man to beautiful woman with simple gesture of his hand. Merlin spared a quick glance at her as he guided the horses quietly from the camp.

"I'm assuming that expression means that my glamour transformation worked?" She nodded vehemently, which made him grin,"Oh good. I have a habit of messing up transformation spells.I always seem to do something wrong when I cast them. I'm probably only going to keep it on for about a day, it'll keep me from being recognized, besides people are more inclined to accommodating to women." He quickly turned serious. "I enchanted you so you'll be able to travel through the woods relatively unnoticed but it will only work for a league give or take. So you'd best put as much distance between yourself and the northern border. If you ride without stopping, you should be able to reach Camelot by mid-day tomorrow."

He patted her horse on the rump, starting it into motion and waved goodbye, leaning back slightly in his saddle to point towards the campsite.

"On three then." She said nothing and watched from afar as the tents caught fire and Merlin kicked his horse, startling both of their horses into a run, his skirt billowing out behind him.

"Goodbye Lianora, may the gods watch over you!" Merlin called out to her as they leaned forward in their saddles, going as fast as they could, hearing the distant shouts of the camp coming to life abruptly.

"You never told me your name, Sorcerer!" The thought suddenly occurred to her as Merlin's path split from hers. He didn't slow his pace, instead turning his head and shouting back over the winds, his now long hair whipping wildly about.

"My name means nothing!" He smiled and tilted his head to the sky, the thrill of escape taking over. "Now run!"

Lianora urged her horse to run faster, watching out of the corner of her eyes as some of the men tried to follow him on foot, but failed. True to his words, they never looked her way and instead turned back to the camp to salvage their possessions.

She raced back to Camelot, feeling euphoric with this new chance at life, wondering if she would ever meet her savior again.

. . . . . . .

Patrol was terse that morning. The knights were still reeling from the simultaneous blows over Merlin's sorcery and his banishment. They were restocking on supplies in a tavern an hours ride out of Camelot, before they headed out to check for illegal operations in the forest.

The aftermath of Merlin's banishment was one of the most frightening scenes that Castle had witnessed since Ygraine's death over 20 years ago. Arthur was unlike his father, his anger was not physical, it did not manifest in killing sprees or violence to servants. No, this was perhaps worse. A kind of silence descended over the castle. There was not one of Arthur's close friends that was unaware of what had happened. No one beyond the knights knew of Merlin's sorcery, but the servants and council members alike knew that Merlin had somehow betrayed his Lord's trust. No one dared breathe out of turn. Even Gwenivere could not Arthur see reason.

When attempting to broach the subject, she received an icy rebuke,

"Gwenivere, he is exiled and that is the last I will hear of it. Even that is a mercy considering what the law dictates for those that practice long as Merlin stays outside of Camelot, he will live."

Gwen, never one to back down, crossed her arms and stared Arthur in the eyes.

"And Gaius? Hunith? What do we tell them?"

Arthur's expression had remained unchanged.

"Gaius will have to be told. Tell his mother that he decided to seek employment elsewhere."

The entirety of the Knights had heard the exchange from outside the throne room and now as they sat in the tavern, it occurred to them that Merlin's fleeing figure might possibly be the last they would ever see of them.

They hadn't said a word since they had sat down, not knowing where to start. So instead they opted to drink instead.

"Yer joking surely!"

"I am _not!_ He was a boy, scarcely over 20. The unruliest black you've ever seen, eyes as blue as the ocean's waters and ears that stick out like the ears of an elephant!"

Gwaine sat up straighter in his seat, swiveling slightly to locate the source of the voice. It came from a young woman that was handing out tankards of mead to group of men near the back of the tavern. Her hair was curly and red, with a lithe figure and confident posture. He looked at the rest of the knights, only to see them all eyeing her as well.

"I'm telling you, he had a red kerchief around his neck, and he helped me escape. Those brutes were going to sell us to Lord Claudas." A wave of horrified murmurs filled the tavern in response to her revelation. "If it weren't for his quick thinking, we would have been wearing slave collars by now and working in that awful man's manor."

"Lucky you eh Lianora?" The girl in question shook her head in the jovial way in which her audience was taking her story. She gathered empty cups and loaded them on to her platter.

"You're awful, the lot of you are." There was no malice in her words however. Lianora knew it was hard to believe her story. Without mentioning magic, it was impossible to believe she had come out of such an ordeal alive. People were more likely to believe she had just gotten lost and refused to admit it.

"Miss. More ale." She looked up to see the group of men that had entered earlier waving her over. She picked up a jug from the counter behind her and walked over. As she began refilling their cups, she noticed that they were almost all full to begin with. Their leader wore a stony expression while the rest's expressions ranged from resignation to annoyance to calmness.

"Clearly it's not ale you want. Out with it then." The man with the longest hair spoke after a moment.

"The man who helped you escape. Did he give you his name?" Lianora stiffened. Suddenly she was glad that he had given her no information to identify him with. She was a terrible liar.

"No. We weren't exactly trying to be friends. We just focused on escaping." The biggest man was observing her with a keeness that she didn't like.

"You said he had black hair, blue eyes and big ears?" A man with kind eyes asked her in a gentle voice. Lianora shrugged.

"They could have been green. We really only got to see each other in the dark when we met."

"That's enough. We're leaving. Now." The leader finally spoke. He made eye contact with no one, and got up. His tone brooked no argument. He slid a satchel of coins across the table to her as the other men followed suit and stood from their seats.

"Good day."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Merlin rode until his thighs grew sore, pushing his horse harder and faster until the shouts of the traders died away and the blackness of the night sky gave way to early morning blue horizon. When he finally stopped, it was next to a stream. He stiffly slid off and surveyed his surroundings. He was at a stream of slow running water, that appeared to be across from a mid sized village, that was already bustling with activity despite the early hour.

He bent over with a sigh and scooped up some water to wash the sweat from his face. He started when he caught sight of his reflection.

Staring back at him was a woman's face. Angular, pale and with striking blue eyes. His hair cascaded in loose waves until his waist. He stood straight and glanced down at his attire. He had somehow magicked himself into a loose fitting moss green gown whilst over his shoulders was fastened a deep burgundy red Cape.

 _Lords. I scared myself. I almost thought I was Morgana._

Merlin took a deep breath and closed his eyes, he focused on turning himself back into a male and waited for the familiar feeling of a transformation reversing. He waited a moment.

Nothing.

When Merlin opened his eyes, he realized with a long-suffering sigh that he'd done something wrong with spell, _again._ But now, there was no Gaius, how was he going to -

"Demon children begone with you!"

The shrill scream distracted Merlin from completing his thought and he looked up to see in the village a a group of four small children running from what could only be described as a moderately large lynch mob that was pelting stones at them. At Merlin's estimate they couldn't have been more than five year old.

A large pudgy woman stood at the forefront of the crowd, hurling slurs and stones simultaneously.

"How dare you set foot in our village. You bring misfortune upon us. We should just burn you. Devil worshipers the lot of you!" The crowd yelled their agreement heartily and began to surge forward, surrounding the cowering children.

 _"Stop!"_

The yell froze everyone instantly as they searched for the source. A strikingly beautiful woman stood between the crowd and the children suddenly. She stood tall and proud, wearing clothes that made her look like nobility, yet the pouch on her hip easily identified her as a traveler.

A man pushed his way in front of the crowd. He was tall, with a curling mustache that seemed melt into his hair in a never ending loop. His large back eyes roved over her face.

"And who would ye be to stand in the way of divine punishment _wench_?"

The woman paused for a moment as if giving the question serious thought, then put her hands imposingly on her hips.

"I," she backed up a little to gather the children around her, smiling at the man in satisfaction when they clutched her skirts as if seeking protection.

"I am Mistress Elladora."


	3. Silence

A/N: welp I'm back. PLEASE REVIEWW

 **Chapter 3: Silence**

If Merlin were being completely honest with himself, he really had no idea what he was doing. The sight of the villagers running four children, (essentially toddlers) out of the village was ludicrous and he wasn't able to stop himself from interfering. Nevermind the fact that he for all the world looked like a woman.

Therefore, Elladora was born. Merlin tried to level his best judgmental look at the people gathered before him.

"You people should be ashamed of yourselves. Look at you. You're lobbing rocks at _toddlers."_ He gave himself a moment to properly look at the children huddled around him, peering at their attackers from behind his skirts. They looked to be about the same age, 2 boys and 2 girls.

The eldest of the bunch appeared to be a boy around 6 years of age with dark brown hair, his eyes were flickering nervously across all the hostile faces opposite them. Clutching his hand was a younger girl, who looked to be youngest of the bunch, with dark red hair and big wide brown eye that were full of fear. On Merlin's other side were the other pair, a young raven haired girl with a sharp pointed nose and a blonde little boy with the most defiant eyes Merlin had ever seen on a child.

"Who are you to school us on how we treat people? You look no older than my own daughter. I'll not be scolded by a chit that no better than she ought to be!" The man who had confronted him earlier made no effort to conceal his ire at being judged by an outsider.

Merlin bristled slightly at the insult. It was expected of course, given his experience in dealing with the decidedly more rough members of society, he knew that when people made an attempt at insulting women they almost always chose to insult her morality.

Still, it was disconcerting to be insulted on a facet that had no bearing on the current topic of conflict. Merlin made a show of rolling his eyes and sighing. He put his hands on his hips and tapped his foot impatiently, becoming momentarily distracted by the fact that he was wearing female shoes and remembered again that he was indeed a woman through and through.

"My virtue aside, could you please deign to explain why is it that you're trying to stone an innocent group of children?" He raised an eyebrow as a woman from the crowd shouted at him.

"Don't you see it in their eyes, that unnatural look? They're born of magic, the lot of them. They set things on fire, freeze water and cause havoc. It's a menace. They got it from the mad woman they lived with! What with her eccentricities, she probably taught them. And now that she's dead, they'll torment us next!" The woman sniffed scornfully at them.

Suddenly the ground in front of Merlin flared up with a sputtering fire. The crowd shrieked and the little blonde boy behind Merlin stuck his head out, eyes flashing and yelled at them.

"Don't call her mad!"

Merlin stepped forward and snuffed the blaze out with his foot and a well hidden. He placed a restraining hand on the boys head and turned to look sternly at him once he was sure he had the kid's attention.

"I know you're angry, but true warlocks never use their magic on others. _Especially_ people who don't have magic _."_ The little boys eyes widened, and when Merlin kept staring, he nodded.

"Alright, now that that's sorted, lets discuss that utter rubbish that just came out of your mouth." The crowd of villagers shifted angrily at his words. The mustached man walked up and bold as brass shoved Merlin back two steps.

"I'll not discuss _anything_ with the likes of you. Get out of my village. I'll deal with these little law breakers myself." He tried to shove Merlin to the side and grabbed at the little brown haired boy and red headed girl. Merlin noted with some satisfaction that the little boy didn't shrink and instead shoved the hand away.

"You will do no such thing." Merlin put a firm hand on his chest and pushed him back the same two steps. Whatever this village chief saw in Merlin's eyes had a visible effect on him. He backed off instantly, a little frightened.

"These children will leave with is not a negotiation!" Merlin's voice rose when the woman from earlier tried to protest. "They will be out of your village, which is what you all wanted isn't it? Or will you only be satisfied when you burn four little children on the pyre? Is that it? Is that what you want?"

The terse silence that followed gave Merlin his answer. He grabbed the hands of the two little girls who held their hands out to the two boys and obediently followed him across the river to where he had left his horse.

He helped them on, though cramming four children in a saddle meant for one person meant for a rather tight squeeze. He looked back, at the village across the water and saw them watching. Merlin smiled and waved cheerily, which effectively dispersed the onlookers.

. . . . . .

It was ten minutes into the walk when Merlin realized the enormity of what he had just done. He glanced surreptitiously, breaking out into a cold sweat.

 _Lords. I just agreed to look after a bunch of kids. Not just one, but FOUR of them._

 _"_ Miss. You're not going to leave us are you?" Merlin turned at that, seeing that it was the oldest that had spoken. Before he could respond however, the blonde boy in the back piped up, leaning out from behind.

"Don't be stupid Godric, why would she tell those idiots that she was going to take us, only to abandon us somewhere else?"

"Salazar, you needn't be so mean. Auntie didn't like it when we were mean." The redhead sniffled, her arms tightening around Godric's waist. The black haired girl in front of Salazar rolled her eyes.

"Do try to keep up Helga. In case you hadn't noticed, Auntie's _dead_." This sent Helga from ineffectual sniffling to full on hysterics. Wailing and screaming for the auntie that Merlin supposed had been their caretaker. He stopped the horse and went to stand in front of Helga and tapped her twice on her pert nose. The abruptness of the action startled her into silence, her cries sputtering into hiccups.

"Now Helga was it? Why on earth are you crying?" Helga took a few gulps of air and spoke in a clear voice, clearly unhindered by her crying.

"Aun-Aunties dead." This time there was no scoffing to the statement for the others, just quiet as they thought over what that meant for them. Merlin pondered for a moment the correct response and settled on one.

"But that doesn't mean she doesn't watch over you still." The foursome stared at Merlin as if the thought had just occurred to them. He looked up into the sky that peeked through the forest foliage above, in brilliant hues of gold, green and blue. He pointed around them, gesturing to the forest.

"See, the thing is, our world is made of spirits, of magic, of everything that you can't see. Humans are _made of_ magic," Seeing the disbelief on their faces he amended his statement. "Well, they may not all be able to _use_ their magic but they have it none the less. It's what makes us, well, _us._ So when you miss your Aunt, look around, and remember, she is in the very fabric of life that you live in."

Merlin noted with satisfaction that his explanation had been definitely been heard. He returened to leading the horse by the reins and guiding them through the woods. After another hour or so of silence and muffled whispering amongst themselves, Godric cleared his throat.

"Um. Excuse me. You said your name was Elladora?"

"That's Mistress Elladora to you, young sir." Merlin said without looking back at him, claring her skirts over a rough patch of ground.

"Yes, Mistress. Can I ask you a question?"

"Why not. We don't have anything better to do." Merlin waved a non-commital hand. He wasn't truly paying attention, still trying to solve the problem of what he was going to do with these children. How would he even live?

"Why did you help us?" Merlin raised his hand and let a lick of flame ignite, allowing himself to smile when he heard their gasps of surprise.

"Because I'm like you." He turned his head slightly to look back at them, seeing their eyes riveted to the flame on his finger. "And because I know what it's like to live in fear of the fact that your true self might be discovered."

Whatever they had to say in response to that was lost when they heard a loud snap of a twig to their right. Merlin stopped and gestured for the kids to come down off the horse. They heard, rather than saw, a group of men ride through the forest. Merlin quickly cast a glamour over himself and the kids and raised a finger to his lips, using the other hand to keep his long black hair away from his face. They copied the movement, showing their understanding.

He flattened his back to the tree and thought his heart would leap out from his throat when he saw that the men wore capes of deep red, emblazoned with the Coat of Arms of Camelot, and recognized the face of his friend, Lancelot. He and Gwaine were whispering amongst themselves. The group was talking about something, something they clearly wished to keep secret from their King who rode at the front of the patrol.

"It's got to be him. It couldn't be anyone else!"

"He's not the only one who wears a red kerchief Gwaine!"

"Alright. What is it? What are you two nattering on about back there?"

Merlin saw the two exchange a glance before hesitantly answering.

"It's about the girl, at the tavern, what she said about -"

"About what Lancelot? About some boy who saved her life? It's not an isolated occurrence."

Gwaine forged ahead, despite Lancelot's warning look.

"Aren't you even the _least_ bit curious about where he is?"

Arthur was silent for a fraction of a second before replying.

"Can't say that I am, no."

"How? He was your best for 6 years! _6 years_ Arthur! How could you do that to him? Not even give him a chance to speak? To clear his name? How do you think he felt?!" Gwaine pulled on the reins to his horse, bringing the whole group to a halt right in front of the tree that Merlin and his quartet of children were concealed behind. Merlin put a hand to over his lips to cover any sound his traitorous mouth would make.

"Enough Gwaine. I made my decision, I will not talk about it."

"No, that's not good enough." Arthur got down off his horse, the rest of the Knights following suit. He got right in Gwaine's face.

"Not good enough? Am I King or are you?" Gwaine looked frustrated enough to pull out his own hair.

"This isn't about being a King, it's about being a man! How can you live with yourself, throwing him out like that? Is this the man you've become? The man Merlin worked so hard to convince me to put my trust in?!"

Arthur finally snapped.

"Merlin Merlin Merlin! That's all you care about! Merlin lied to me! 6 years! Like you said, he lived with me for 6 YEARS and I never knew the man I put _my_ faith in. Who should have been as transparent to me as I was to him! Where was the man _I_ put _my_ trust in?!" Arthur slammed his hand across his chest, his gloves pounding over his tunic, the slap of it echoing in the forest that had jumped to life under the screams. Mirroring Arthur's state of mind.

Merlin watched as Arthur broke down, tossing tree branches and stones at trees, while Merlin stifled his sobs, finally understanding his King. His eyes stung with the tears that he tried to stop. He thought he would break down when he felt a small hand wrap around his fingers.

He down to see Helga, her eyes echoing the same emotions in his. Hurt, fear, and understanding. Merlin slid down to the ground, as Arthur's yells stopped and turned to heavy breathing.

Silence fell upon them, under the weight of the truth.

No one knew how to lighten that load.


	4. Dying

_A/N: Please Review!_

 **Chapter 4: Dying**

Arthur sat heavily on the ground, feeling weak in the knees. The Knights, Leon, Elyan, Lancelot, Percival and Gwaine gingerly sat on the ground next to him.

But whatever they have been about to say next was lost on Merlin, as he used the support of the tree to help himself up. He quietly ushered the children back on to the horse and fled the scene, under the cover of the concealment glamour he had cast.

With another half day's walk along the Northern Border, they arrived at a small village that seemed to Merlin to be full of merchants and farmers. The walk had been long, but they passed the time by the children learning about Merlin's history (amended of course to omit his maleness) and with Merlin learning their names. He concluded that their parents must have been part of some strange pact to give their children such peculiar names. Helga seemed to be the only one to escape unscathed. Salazar proudly explained to him that his name meant 'Sacred hall'. Godric meant 'power of god' and Rowena meant 'fair, light skinned'.

Merlin supposed that they had hit the mark there. Rowena was indeed fair. Helga timidly offered that her name meant 'blessed', and offered shyly, that for the first time, she might think that it was true. It made Merlin feel slightly ashamed that he had really only brought them along on a whim and he had no real plan for them, or himself really. As they neared the town, Merlin got a good look at it. Its streets bustled in activity with women rushing past them carrying steaming trays of food that the children watched go by longingly.

"Right then. Off you get. This is as good a place as any to replenish ourselves." Merlin hoisted each child off of the horse one by one. They stretched their legs, groaning from the strain.

"Mistress Elladora. Can we get something to eat?" Salazar gave Merlin the most baleful eyes and he realized that the children had probably not eaten anything of substance since their Auntie had died.

 _Stupid. Should have asked about that_ ** _first._** Merlin winced at his own ignorance. Children were always hungry, he knew that from experience growing up in Ealdor. He grabbed the horse by the reins and urged the children forward.

"Of course. Run along ahead, all of you choose something you like and we'll go from there okay?" Merlin watched in amusement as their eyes lit up like fireworks and they rushed, calling excitedly to each other. He palmed his money pouch, that held the money he'd amassed over the years, working for Arthur. His pay had gone up considerably since Arthur had been crowned King. It meant that he was able to save money for himself despite sending the majority back to Ealdor for his mother. At least for the moment, he could afford to comfortably buy the children something to eat. He would worry about making a livelihood later, when they found a place to stay.

"Mistress Elladora! Mistress Elladora!" Godric bounded up to Merlin, grabbing at his cloak and tugging excitedly. Merlin smiled despite of himself.

"Yes Godric, what's got you so worked up?"

"They're selling meat patties! Can we have some? _Please?_ "

"Very well then. Patties it is. Let's see if we can't get something to drink as well."

They spent the next hour, munching on the food that Merlin bought and perusing the stalls for trinkets. Merlin bought Helga and Rowena a pair of hair clips, in the likeness of a flower and bird respectively. For the boys, Merlin bought twin lapel brooches. He gave Salazar a green stone, inset in gray stone, and Godric a stone in the shade of blood, inlaid in the same slate gray backing.

He was beginning to realize that he was happy. It was something that caught him by surprise. Despite running into Arthur's group in the forest and learning what Merlin's revelation meant for the King, Merlin was finding exhilaration in this newfound ability to do whatever he pleased. He didn't have to constantly worry about stroking Arthur's ego to make sure he could rule the Kingdom, while constantly battling to knock him down a few pegs too, all in the hopes that he would retain some humility.

Merlin didn't assume of course, that this meant he could abandon his destiny. He knew had a job to do. But for once, he wanted to try to living a meaningful life for himself as well. Feel what it meant to live a life that was full of domesticity. The life that he and Freya had once joked of living.

The group meandered through the crowd, Merlin only paying half attention to the chattering of the children he was with. He answered with enthusiasm when posed a question but for the most part, he chose to listen to the children, learning to see the world through their innocent eyes. As they past an herb stall, Helga paused, her eyes roving over the selection. She tugged on Merlin's hand, who looked down to see what the hold up was.

"Helga? What is it?" She pointed to the herb on the farthest side, satchels of small green seeds.

"I've seen them before. Auntie used to give them to the Baker's wife all the time." Godric, Rowena and Salazar looked at it too and nodded.

"She's right, Auntie did." Merlin tried to remember Gaius's teachings, and rummaged through his memory to find the name of the herb.

"That's fennel. The baker's wife must have either had terrible breath or indigestion." They giggled, and Salazar made a face.

"It was her breath. It smelled like a pig's trough." Merlin whacked his head affectionately.

"Oi. We don't talk about elders that way."

"But she was a mean, horrible old troll!"

"Even if that's true, let other people do the name calling. That way, _you're always right."_ Merlin winked at Salazar and saw the wheels turning in his head, realizing that this meant he could manipulate people to calling him bad words and then making them sorry for him.

"What's this one?" Rowena pointed to a spiky dark green plant. She reached out to touch it, but Merlin grabbed her hand before it could make contact.

"Careful Rowena, those are nettles. If you aren't cautious about handling them, you're going to be in an awful amount of pain. They itch worse than the devil, but if ground properly, they're very effective for people with green sickness and skin problems." Rowena snatched her hand back, staring suspiciously at the rest of the herbs on the table, as if unsure which ones meant her harm.

As Merlin explained the nature of the rest of the herbs, he heard the far end of the village burst into a flurry of panic. Then there was a shrill scream.

"Elsa!" A woman came tearing through the crowd carrying a young girl, Merlin estimated her to be around the age of 10, in her arms. She looked around wildly.

"Please! Is anyone here a physician! My daughter is ill!" Merlin looked around, and saw that no one raised their arms as the woman grew more distraught. He squared his shoulders, he had only trained as a physician for a while. Being Arthur's manservant meant that he hadn't had as much time around Gaius as he would have liked. Merlin marched forward, his cloak whirling in the wind around him.

"I am a physician. Let me see." The woman looked at Merlin with unguarded relief. She hurried forward and lay the child on the ground, her head in her lap. The four children followed Merlin, peering over her shoulders.

Merlin tilted her head up and listened for her breath, weak but steady. He probed her neck for her veins while talking to the mother.

"What happened?"

"I – I don't know. One moment she was chopping potatoes and the next she's on the ground." Merlin nodded without looking up. He noted the slight greenish pallor of her skin and lips. He pressed a thumb into the skin of the back of her hand. The skin went from light pink to white and when Merlin removed the pressure from his thumb, the skin stayed white, instead of returning to it's former color.

"Mhm, I thought so. Rowena." The young girl perked up behind Merlin, who fished through his pouch for a coin and handed it to her. "Go to the stall we were just at. Buy me some nettles. Godric, get me some water from the well we saw earlier. Helga go with Salazar and find me a mortar and pestle." The children ran off in different directions, returning in moments with the items. Merlin grabbed the nettles and quickly pounded them into a paste, adding water in increments. Once he had a good amount of the mix, in the consistency of chewing tobacco, he picked it up and pressed it into her mouth. Merlin made sure to press down hard so that some juice escaped the concoction and trickled down her throat.

Almost immediately, the color began to return back to her skin, and her breathing became steadier. Merlin leaned back and wiped his forehead.

"Is – is she better now?" Merlin nodded and found the satchel that Rowena had used to carry the nettles. He poured the rest of the mix into it and handed it to her. Girl's mother took the pouch carefully, looking at the contents curiously.

"She's fine. She's got green sickness. She probably always complains about being tired and she's always pale, right?" Another affirmation. Merlin internally hoped he was making the right diagnosis.

"Just keep giving her this same mix once every day and the problem should go away." Merlin dusted his knees off as he stood. Then turned around to find the whole village staring at him. He briefly wondered if he'd done something wrong before a short portly man made his way to the front of the crowd, and without any preamble, grabbed her hand, yanking her down slightly and shaking it vigorously.

"Well met my dear. Well met! My name is Crane. Thomas Crane, and this is Carhaix, our humble trading village. Here I am the village Elder. Please accept my deepest thanks for the help you have provided today."

Merlin bowed, somewhat perplexed at the formal welcome speech.

"The same to you, sir. I am Elladora and these are my," Merlin thought for a moment about what he would call his new travel companions. He made the connection in a split second. "children. My children, Godric, Rowena, Helga and Salazar." The villagers looked speculatively at Merlin and the children, suddenly muttering amongst themselves and Merlin realized that they were trying to suss out whether she was an unwed mother or something else entirely.

He sighed and said loudly.

"I am wife, and I suppose widow, to," He thought fast for a name and settled one. "William, of Ealdor. My husband died years ago in a bandit attack and I have been travelling since, offering my skills as a physician to make a living." He finished his introduction, hoping he had deflected any inquiries as to his character. He had seen what being an unwed woman with a child had done to his mother.'s life He was determined that these children who were bound to have hardships ahead of them, and he refused to have to deal with another issue as minor as this. Merlin kept his lies close to truth, easier to remember them Merlin figured.

The countenances of the villagers relaxed and the village Elder spoke again, this time rather slowly as if trying to find the best way to propose a proposition.

"Lady Elladora-"

"Mistress is fine. I do not hold any illusions to be greater than I am. I'm nothing more than a farmer's wife with some knowledge of the healing arts." The village elder laughed good naturedly at Merlin's humility.

"At that, young woman, is why our physicians are treated with the utmost respect here. For we have no other with that knowledge. And that is why I wonder if I may ask something of you, Mistress." Merlin nodded her acquiescence to hear him out. He gestured to the house behind him.

"Maybe we should talk in here." Merlin followed him into the thatched house and sat down on the proffered chair. The children made themselves comfortable on the other side of the house happily eating the food, venison and potatoes, that the Elder's wife gave them.

"You said you were travelling, offering your services as a physician to the masses to make a living did you not?"

"I did." Merlin hoped his blatant lying wouldn't be detected.

"Then I wish to offer you a contract for your services." Merlin raised an eyebrow at that.

"A contract?"

Crane corrected himself.

"Well not so much a contract as a suggestion. See, this is a busy trader town. On average we have a multitude of people travelling through our village from King Arthur's Kingdom to King Pellinor's. As a result. We end up with a rather high amount of people who come here ill, and who become ill from coming into contact with those who pass through." Merlin was beginning to understand the thread which this conversation was going to follow.

"I see."

"Some time ago, we had an elderly man who lived in a home about 10 minutes outside of the village. He was a practiced healer and most everyone from our village went to him for potions, tinctures and poultices. He was an old man however, and eventually, he succumbed to his old age. We found him dead some 6 months ago, and we've not had anyone with anywhere near the amount of experience or knowledge as he had."

Merlin assumed the home he was talking about was the one they had passed on the way into a town. Helga had pointed it out, saying it was so pretty, what with the foliage that overran the outside of it. From faraway, it almost looked like a small, oddly placed, hill.

"And you would ask me to take over his position?" Crane said nothing for a second and then reached out to clasp her hand.

"I know you have no reason to accept. But I sincerely feel, in my bones, that you came to us, today, for a reason. It cannot be a coincidence that the day you ride into town, Eliana falls ill, Eliana who only ever used to complain of tiredness." Merlin shifted uneasily. He didn't like the idea of fate fiddling with his life again. Not when he'd just become determined to escape it. Perhaps Crane could see the indecision on his face, because he put both hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"I do not expect you to answer me right away, stay here tonight and think it over. There are many benefits of staying in Carhaix. This a traders town as I've said before. The amount of wares you would be able to purchase would be immense and the business you would reap even more so. All I ask is you seriously consider it."

Merlin sighed and stood, holding his hand out to Crane to shake.

"I can't guarantee anything but I do promise to think over your offer sincerely. I cannot make the decision on my own." When she pointed to the children, Crane smiled understandingly.

"Well then, this is a guest house, as a thank you for Eliana you may stay here free of charge. I'll have my son Derek bring you some basic necessities." With that, Crane and his wife left. Merlin sank back on to the chair, exhausted. He'd never been good under pressure.

"Mistress Elladora?"

Merlin looked up across the room to find the children staring at him and was aware that he would have to be crazy to throw away this chance. Where else would someone offer him such a lucrative offer for work? He had 4 mouths, plus his own to feed, and he couldn't do it comfortably without a job of at least this caliber. Merlin got up and went to sit on the floor with all the children. He rubbed a hand affectionately through Godric's hair.

"I'm going to ask you guys a questions. I want an honest answer. Alright?"

They nodded solemnly.

"How would you feel about living here?" Merlin saw Rowena and Godric exchange a glance while Salazar's mouth just hung open in excitement.

"We would love it!" Rowena and Godric said, shuffling forward until they sat practically on his lap. Merlin actually guffawed at the enthusiastic answer.

"I guess that settles that then."

. . . . . . . .

The next morning, Merlin finalized the details of his agreement for staying with Crane and the rest of the village Elders. Over all, he was amused by the amount of excitement over his acceptance of the position. As he walked with the children back to gather the horse and their belongings, he wondered briefly what had happened to his life. 2 days ago, he had been a single man working as the manservant to the King. Now 2 days _later_ , he stood on the northern border of Camelot, in the body of a woman that had declared herself a widow to a man that was her best friend and now mother to four small children.

 _I have absolutely lost my mind._

Shaking the thought away, Merlin followed the Elder's son to the home of the previous physician where they were to be staying. The elder's son, a man of at least 30 in Merlin's opinion, lead the way.

They had some difficulty opening the door but with a small amount of jostling by Derek it sprung wide open. Inside, it was a cluttered though large home. Larger than Merlin would have expected for a single man.

"Well, here it is. Old man Grindle's house. He was always was an odd one." Merlin set his bag and fod down on the table and turned to face Derek.

"Odd? Odd how?" She watched as Derek turned curiously red under her scrutiny.

"Well," he scratched his head. "People said he had magic. Not that I ever saw him do anything, but he had that air about him you know. Although even if he were, no one would care. In these parts, you get all sorts coming through. Can't really afford to be picky you know."

Merlin couldn't stop himself from grinning a little. At least now he knew he wouldn't have to be so iron strict about keeping their magic hidden. Of course he didn't want to make such a spectacle either, lest he attract the interest of Arthur's patrols since they were still in his Kingdom.

He looked around for the fireplace and found it devoid of firewood. Merlin groaned and shrugged off his cloak, still wearing the green moss colored dress he'd been wearing since turning into a woman. He grabbed the ax placed next to the fireplace.

"Godric!" The brown haired boy's head popped out from a door in the hallway where they were exploring the rooms.

"Yes Mistress?"

"Look after the others, I'm going out to get some firewood." Merlin soon found out he was _not_ in fact going out to cut some firewood when Derek held his arm gently, taking the axe from him.

"Let me do that, Mistress Elladora. I can do it faster." He exited the house with Merlin staring after him in confusion. Did he look that weak? He inspected his arms and hands. It was true they were smaller than his male ones, but that didn't mean he couldn't cut his own firewood. A giggle brought him out his thoughts as Rowena and the others gathered around him.

"I think he fancies you Mistress." Rowena said gleefully. It was so exciting to see this kind of thing up close! Merlin shook his head.

"He does no such thing Rowena. Careful of what comes out of that mouth." Merlin scolded her affectionately, while internally grimacing at the idea. The last thing he needed was _love_ coming in and creating a mess of a perfectly good situation. He would have to think of a solution.

. . . . . . . . .

That night, Merlin sat in the kitchen space of the home, warming the food that Derek had delivered from his home, Merlin accepted it graciously (seeing as they didn't have any supplies to cook yet) and studiously tried to ignore the stares that Salazar and Godric were giving them, and the giggles from Rowena.

As they ate, Merlin decided to pose a question he'd been mulling over.

"Seeing as we're going to be here for an extended period of time, how would you feel about learning some magic?" Seeing the way that their eyes lit up at the suggestion, Merlin felt it safe to assume that they were agreeable to the proposition.

"Well then, we start tomorrow."

. . . . . . . . .

It was easier said than done, to teach a bunch of children an art as delicate as magic. But yet, if Merlin did not, they would seriously injure themselves or each other. Not that they weren't trying already.

Salazar had developed somewhat of a tendency to heckle Helga, going out of his way to leave bugs in her bed or use his magic to turn her hair green. Other times, he would simply wait for Helga to be practicing her magic and then lean in to mess it up for her. It sent the normally genial Helga into a whirlwind of annoyance.

Merlin just figured it was similar behavior to that of pulling the pigtails of a girl you liked. Godric and Rowena on the other hand, took to their studies with gusto. They all pitched in when there was a patient, having learned the names and the locations of many herbs, they often went out together to find them for Merlin.

" _Ouch! Salazar that hurts!"_

 _"You're too slow!"_

 _"Stop it you two. Mistress won't like it if she finds you bothering Helga again!"_

 _"Goodness Salazar, one might think you_ ** _enjoy_** _bothering Helga."_

" _I do not!"_

 _"What's going on here?"_

Merlin fought the urge to laugh when he saw the children trying to put on their least guiltiest faces. It was a full life, the one Merlin had once dreamed of living. But how long would it last? Merlin refused to dwell on it and instead focused on giving the children a full education (well as full as he could manage).

There was another problem however. The transformation enchantment was giving him all sorts of issues. He couldn't transform back into a man and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. But he didn't like lying to the children and he'd told them as soon as they were settled in, that he was truly a man. He gave them a watered down explanation of his situation, but of all the responses he'd expected, the hysterical laughter was not one of them.

Merlin scowled.

 _Children were awful._

. . . . . . . . . . .

"La la la." It had been a full week since they had started living in Carhaix, and Helga found she quite liked it. There was no one to look at her funny, or yell at her for things she couldn't control. The only thing she didn't like was Salazar. He was being quite mean, even for him. Helga hummed and bent down, picking up some wolfsbane and parsley leaves. Mistress Elladora had sent her and Rowena to collect supplies with Rowena going to collect water and simultaneously practice her levitation spells. Helga had been told to find more herbs. Herbs that the village didn't sell.

Surely there had to be a reason he was behaving like this. Maybe she had done something to annoy him? He was oddly sensitive. Helga wondered if -

With a shriek, Helga tripped down a small hill and landed right in the middle of a battle ground. All around her, bodies lay everywhere. There were blood tipped swords and lances and torn clothing. Helga scrambled back as far as she could, her back hitting a tree quite painfully.

Suddenly a hand grabbed her ankle and Helga clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her screams. She looked for the owner of the appendage and found it to belong to a man with long hair, wearing silver armor and a red cloak.

He opened his eyes slightly and groaned, quickly falling into unconsciousness. Helga looked around and realized the man was dying. As quickly as she could, Helga got shakily to her feet, grabbed her basket of herbs and sprinted through the forest back to the house.

 _They were going to die!_


	5. Merlin

**Chapter 5: Merlin**

It had probably been a bad idea, Merlin thought in retrospect, to allow the children to pursue the magical arts without guidelines of some sort. He had dealt with its consequences the hard way when he'd returned from a short trip out to a nearby Glen only to find that somehow Salazar had sprouted pig's ears as a "favor" from Helga for the stunt he'd pulled earlier when her dress had gone from bright blue to a horrendous multicolored monstrosity.

After that it had been difficult to sit them down and explain the dangers of experimenting with each for their spells. He tried to illustrate with a story of his own failures (of those there were plenty). He recounted, names omitted of course, the instance of Arthur's enchantment at the hands of rather malevolent goblin. It hadn't exactly been his fault, but it was close enough. Another thing Merlin had begun to notice was that their magic cast too wide a net.

As children, it made sense that they had no filter for their magic, which was often most influenced by their own emotions. My word did they have the most volatile emotions. Rowena would get upset if she found she could not understand something despite her hardest attempts, when this would happen it resulted in many a broken pot and the odd shattered glass. Salazar's emotions would get most riled if he felt that his pride had been wounded, for a 5 year old (– or 6 year old, Merlin wasn't quite sure of the age here, neither were the children), he seemed to have quite a lot of it. Godric and Helga, Merlin soon found out, were the more gentle of the foursome. Godric prized strength above all, while Helga seemed to favor fairness. When Godric grew agitated it seemed to Merlin that the very forest would respond in kind, unless Merlin intervened, contrarily when Helga was distressed, her surroundings would engage un something Merlin was rather inclined to call the "Waltz of panic". It was reminiscent of a tornado, only nowhere near as deadly, seeing as Helga never actually intended to harm anyone or anything.

It should have been no surprise then, that Merlin and the others could sense Helga's approach before seeing her. The forest suddenly came alive, birds bursting out of trees and woodland animals running for higher ground as if a tidal wave were coming. When Helga came crashing out of the brush, Merlin looked up, caught by surprise at the disheveled look of the child. There were twigs and leaves in her hair and a smear of something red on her ankle just peeking out from under skirt.

"Mistress -" The redhead doubled over, hands on her knees, the basket of herbs forgotten at her feet, coughing. Merlin knelt in front of her, brushing the debris from her hair, one hand on her shoulder, steadying her.

"You're sweating, Helga. What happened? Why are you in such a hurry?"

"You have to hurry Mistress! They're going to die if you don't?" Merlin stiffened a little at her words. What had the child seen? He thought it best to get all the information before running blindly into the wind.

"Who's going to die, Helga? You have to clear if you want me to understand. _What did you see?"_ Helga straightened and tried to calm herself. The leaves and twigs of the forest stopped swirling around them, dropping softly to ground, while Rowena, Godric and Salazar ran out trying to gather the materials they'd been working with when Helga had run in causing them to fly right out of their hands.

"All of them! They look like knights, lots of silver amour and big red cloaks, like yours! With a big gold cat on their shoulders. Oh there's blood everywhere. _You have to hurry!"_ Merlin's blood ran cold under the images that ran unchecked through his mind's eye. It couldn't be! The last time -

Merlin didn't give his treacherous thoughts another look and flew back into the house, coming out in an instant with 6 of the homemade stretchers that he and Godric had spent the better part of a day making.

"Godric! Salazar!" Merlin barked out orders as he gathered his wits. The children, small as they were, quickly snapped to attention.

"I'm taking Helga and Rowena to see what this is about. In case we have patients, I want you to boil water – yes, in the big cauldron – and quickly shred the white cotton that the village Elder gave us yesterday. We need enough for bandages and sweating cloth. Prepare the patient rooms. I know we only have four beds, but think of something, shift my bed in the room, it's wide enough for two. Be quick about it, and _don't use magic whilst I'm gone, is that understood?"_ He pinned them with a steely look, at which Godric and Salazar nodded furiously.

"Yes Mistress." Merlin looked for Rowena and Helga and found them at the ready. He curtly motioned for them to follow him and then took off running into the forest, following Helga's instructions on where to find them.

And find them he did. It was less than a 5 minute run, when Merlin ran into the carnage that Helga had described. Merlin froze. It was as Merlin had feared. It was Arthur's patrol. They had reached something like a small cliff in the forest that overlooked a clearing where clearly some kind of battle had occurred. It was mind numbing that Merlin hadn't heard or sensed the blood shed that had happened, but he ignored that thought for now. Second guessing himself would never help him now. He skidded down the slope, while calling for Helga and Rowena to find a safer way to descent.

Bodies lay everywhere, if he had to guess, aside from Arthur's own force of five knights, he had been taken by surprise by a company of 15. Merlin could see Arthur from where he stood, collapsed next to Percival, hand on his chest. Merlin assumed he had been in the process of checking whether the large man was indeed alive, when unconsciousness arrived to claim him. He summoned the stretchers that he had levitated to follow them.

"Helga, Rowena. As carefully as you can, _do not touch their wounds,_ straighten their bodies, so the stretchers can comfortably lift them. Check for breathing amongst the others." It was a terse few moments before both of the girls called back that each of the knights were breathing before could sigh in relief. Of course, they were Camelot knights, they could hardly let themselves be bested by what seemed like roadside bandits at most.

Merlin frowned at that, toeing the dead bandit in front of him. He was greasy and bloody, and most definitely dead as were the other bandits. _Well, at least Arthur's thorough,_ he thought ruefully. He turned to find all of Camelot's Knights loaded on to stretchers, he glanced around the Glen, knowing he couldn't very well leave this to be found by anyone from Carhaix. The raven haired witch knelt to the ground, placed her palm flat on it and closed her eyes, willing the earth to speak to her. When she opened her eyes moments later, she knew of a cave only a minutes walk from where she stood.

"Wait here girls. I will only be a moment." Merlin raised his arms, lifting the limp corpses of the bandits and their weapons in the air. She strode purposefully through the foliage until she came upon the cave she knew would be there. It was not exceptionally deep, but it would serve the purpose that Merlin needed adequately. He stepped inside, dropping the camouflage glamour he had cast around him, (the _last_ thing he needed was the villager's seeing him carry a small brigade of dead people through the forest). He grabbed a stone from the cave floor and stood at the mouth of the cave, carving protection seals into it, dropping it when he was done. As a last second thought, he went back to the bodies and lifted a lance from the collection.

The earth had felt almost _sick_ , when Merlin had tried to read it and he was willing to bet that whatever was wrong was connected to the bandits.

When he returned to the glen, Helga and Rowena were waiting, fidgeting nervously until he came back through, their countenances visibly relaxing in relief. Merlin said nothing and instead, mouth set in a grim line, rushed back to the house.

When they approached Grindle's hut, Merlin saw to his satisfaction that his instruction's had been carried out and the resourceful boys were already in the process of making poultices, foreseeing the need in the presence of wounded Knights.

Their eyes widened when they saw stretchers carrying the injured Knights, but they wisely held their tongues and instead ran ahead to open the doors and assist Merlin in easing each knight in to a bed. Merlin shrugged off his cloak and donned the smock he usually wore over his dressed when attending sick people. He tied his hair up in a ribbon to keep it out of the way.

Arthur was of course the first to receive medical attention. Merlin instructed the others to attend to the rest, cutting off their shirts and assessing the extent of the damage.

He lifted Arthur's shirt, grimacing in sympathy at the short but deep enough cut to his abdomen, that seemed to be the worst of his injuries. Merlin stopped in thought, considering a possibility, he hadn't given much credence to.

"The rest of you. Do you any very large wounds? Something that should fell a man in one blow?"

There was a pause, and then quick shuffling as they checked each patient again. Then:

"No, Mistress. Nothing more than a few deep cuts."

Merlin's mind raced. _Stupid! Why didn't I think of this before?!_ Merlin got up and picked up the lance he had taken from the knights' attackers. The tip was covered in rusted blood. He tentatively licked an uncovered portion of the lance tip after sniffing it. He immediately pulled back and spit it out in a nearby chamber pot, grabbing a cup of water to rinse his mouth, wiping the drippings off with his sleeve. He dropped the weapon on the floor and kicked it to the side in disgust.

" _Nightshade_." Merlin went back to Arthur, leaning down to check for a heartbeat which thankfully was still going stubbornly. Merlin went to the shelf that contained his collection of herbs and picked out mulberry leaves, a hearty handful and pulled out a small cauldron from the shelf next to the fireplace in the room.

"Keep using cloths to keep the fevers from overpowering them. I'm going to make an antidote for the poison."

Helga paused in wiping Elyan's forehead, to see Merlin filling the pot with vinegar and mulberry leaves, placing it over the hearth to boil. He turned back to the men lying in their cots, Arthur, Percival, Elyan and Leon in their cots, with Gwaine and Lancelot lying in Merlin's bed which Godric and Salazar had dragged in, closest to the door of the room.

He stood in the center of the room and breathed out slowly. He needed to find a way to slow down the poisons progression until his antidote was ready. He raised his hands, opened his eyes, letting them flash golden and hoping to whatever lord was listening to help him save his friends. He dropped his hands and went back to his antidote, stirring, waiting for it to boil.

20 minutes later, the antidote was ready, the water having turned a murky brown color and the sourness of the vinegar changing to a teeth chattering bitterness instead. Merlin had watched over his friends worriedly, asking Helga and the others to keep their foreheads damp and try to bandage some of the wounds. He spooned the antidotes in 6 different bowls, and went around, feeding each man until the bowls were empty.

To Merlin's relief, within 5 minutes of ingestion, the antidote seemed to have a noticeable effect. The fever dropped and each man appeared to be breathing easily. Merlin hazarded a glance out the window in the hallway and saw to no surprise of his that the sky had turned dark in the interim of boiling medicines and bringing down fevers. The kids had lit candles in every corner of the room, on the wall mounted fixtures, casting a warm glow in the room.

Sensing that they were no longer in danger's way, Merlin sent each child to bed with an affectionate one armed hug. He was sorely glad for their help and guiding them helped focus his mind. They closed the door softly behind them and Merlin settled in for what would surely be a long night. None of them had regained consciousness yet, but he had no doubt that they would eventually.

He went to each man and applied the aloe vera salve he kept bottled, to each cut and abrasion on their bodies. Arthur had gained most of his on his arms, likely from his attempts to parry , Elyan and Leon had sustained wounds on their legs as far as he could tell, from wrapping them. Lancelot appeared to suffer from only one, a deep injury, probably from a slicing motion of a sword on his thigh needed stitching.

Then came Gwaine. Merlin hissed in sympathy as he peeled back the young knight's shirt. He had four cut marks across his abdomen that had stopped bleeding but still looked raw and angry. Merlin reached into the basket of fabric at his feet and dipped it into the clean basin of water on the table next to the bed. He wiped at the cuts, again and again until his stomach was clean, the wounds appearing as dark red lines. Merlin picked up the jar of aloe vera jelly and set about covering each cut generously in the gel. The cool temperature on his skin made Gwaine squirm in his sleep, despite the thin sheen of sweat still covering his body and face, just like the rest of them. The poison was making sure to cause as much pain as it could on the way out.

"Honestly. I've only been gone a week." Merlin muttered churlishly, placing a strip of cloth over the first wound. "How could you lot go and nearly get yourselves killed in the span of a _week?_ 'Knights' you call yourselves." Merlin shook his head. How was he supposed to live his life in peace when the men that called themselves the protectors of Camelot could barely function a week without him.

Merlin finished another line of bandaging and got up to fetch a new roll when a large, masculine hand grabbed his wrist. With a small yell, Merlin was yanked back down over Gwaine, his hand bracing him up, black hair spilling over his shoulders.

Gwaine's eyes were half open, then brown eyes hazy as he stared up at the witch above him.

"Merlin?"


	6. Gone

Chapter 6: Gone

There were few instances in Merlin's life that had successfully managed to render him speechless. Even discovering Kilgarrah's presence in the bowels of the palace hadn't frozen his tongue. So when, in that hour of evening when day turned to night, Gwaine woke and spoke his name, Merlin was astonished to discover that his mind had come screeching to a halt.

Merlin was perched over Gwaine, whose sleepy eyes were becoming more and more alert as he watched. He found he was unable to extricate himself by way of pure stupefaction.

"What's going on?"

Another voice suddenly rose from the far side of the room and Merlin finally found it in him to look up and lock eyes with Arthur Pendragon. A week ago those eyes had looked at him in hurt and betrayal. Now they showed only caution and exhaustion.

Out of sheer desperation to protect himself, Merlin retreated into his character of Elladora. She had become him in a way. Confident in ways he could never be, a personality free of allegiance and loyalty. Someone who had no responsibility other than to himself.

Merlin's new found personality, (somewhat similar to Dragoon, if he had to admit it), quickly wormed its way to the front.

"What's going on is you boys almost went and off-ed yourselves in my forest." Arthur's brow crinkled as he tried to remember what happened. He struggled into a half upright position on the cot he was on and took in the room. Around him, as a result of the noise, the other Knights stirred awake. Merlin sighed, head in hands.

"Now look at what you've made me do. They're all waking up." Merlin shook his head and walked to his wall of herbs and poultices, grabbing the ones the boys had made earlier that day. Merlin felt like he was corned suddenly and had to take the position in which he felt safest; in this case behind the table where he made his poultices and table notes on the illnesses of the people that came through Carhaix looking for his help.

As the Knights woke up, one by one, they began taking stock of the situation. Merlin though nervous at first from having to speak directly to them, soon found that he could speak freely if he made sure Elladora was his mouthpiece.

"Arthur where are we?" Elyan, still weak from the poison, could barely do more than look at his King. Merlin rolled his eyes. He was standing right there! Well, he was in the corner, but still, he was right there!

"I think we're in the cabin of some healer. I haven't the faintest idea, honestly."

"Oh, for goodness sakes' why am I in bed with you? Surely Percival would have been a far more enjoyable option!" Gwaine pretended to gag and roll away from Lancelot, who was just waking up amidst the chaos, the first thing he saw upon opening his eyes was Gwaine's horrified face. Percival managed a ghost of a laugh on his cot, strained from the fever he was still running.

"I assure you the feeling is entirely mutual Gwaine." He replied dryly, propping himself up on an elbow and finally taking notice of Merlin's –Elladora's –figure in the corner, looking somewhat on edge.

"Oh. Uh, hello."

Merlin inclined her head toward him greeting.

"Good evening. As for where you are, you're about a 10 minute horse ride from Carhaix, on the northern border of Camelot. Surely you remember that, strapping young men such as yourselves?" The Knights expressions cleared as their memory returned.

Arthur stiffened in his cot, then struggled to get up.

"The men who attacked us, they got away!" Merlin pushed him back down, clucking her tongue at him. (Where had this personality come from? Had he always been like this?)

"They most certainly did not get away. How badly did you get knocked about Arthur, that you would forget how you practically massacred them?" Percival looked at the others, who nodded in agreement.

"She's right, I think I was the last to pass out. They were all dead." Lancelot grunted as he shifted to his side so he could better see Arthur who was lying across the room. Gwaine elbowed him in the stomach.

"Lancelot, I know I'm charming, but could perhaps find another position to lie in? The poor woman attending to us is going to get a rather false impression of our relationship. OUCH! It's an honest observation!" Gwaine's remark earned him a sharp cuff from Lancelot.

"Speaking of, maybe we should properly address her seeing as we're lying in what is presumably her home?" Elyan piped up from where he was lying, in a cot at the foot of Lancelot and Gwaine's bed.

Merlin watched the knights talk to each other and found to his consternation, that they seemed to be getting on remarkably well since he'd seen them last. It was a bittersweet feeling. On the one hand, he wanted nothing more than for his friends to be happy. But on a slightly more selfish note, was it so wrong to hope that his absence would have a more profound effect on them? Granted, he had only been Arthur's manservant, but Lancelot and Gwaine had told him repeatedly that they were his friends? It was jarring to see that little more than a week had passed and already they had adjusted to his absence.

"Hello, Miss...?" Merlin realized that Arthur was speaking to him and refocused on the conversation. He chose to go to each bed and remove the cloths he'd been using to wipe their foreheads from each person, while addressing him.

"Elladora." Arthur blinked.

"What?" Merlin gave an aggrieved sigh.

"My name. My name is Elladora. And I suppose the phrase you should be using right about now is thank you, seeing as you would all be dead had I not found you." The monarch had the grace to look chastened on his lack of manners.

"Yes, of course, you are absolutely correct." His face took on a thoughtful look as he catalogued his injuries."Although our conditions hardly warranted such lengths of tending. Just a few cuts here or there really. Not much to be worried over."

"Speak for yourself, princess. I feel as if I let you use me as a practice dummy for a week straight." Elyan let out a laugh that turned into a bout of coughing. Percival seconded Gwaine's comparison heartily. Merlin threw the lance he'd brought back for study at Arthur, the weapon landing heavily in his lap.

"Oof!" Arthur gasped as the lance came to rest perhaps rather dangerously in his lap. He gingerly inspected it, casting a questioning glance at Merlin. "This belongs to the group that attacked us." Merlin pointed to the tip of the lance.

"The tip of that stupid pointy stick is covered in Nightshade." Seeing their uncomprehending expressions, Merlin picked the lance up off of Arthur's lap and pointed it straight down so that it rested a hair's breadth from Arthur's jugular.

"It's poison. The slightest nick from anything covered in nightshade, would ultimately cost you your life. When I found you, the entirety of your company lay at death's door." Gwaine paled at the information and flopped back down on the bed, limbs having gone limp.

"Lords." The rest of the Knights lay silent as they processed how close they had unwittingly strayed towards death. Merlin took this as his cue to walk out of the room, telling the pensive group he would be back later with clean shirts since he'd torn the ones they'd been wearing.

His words incurred no response.

. . . . . .

"Arthur."

It was well into the night. Elladora had come in with the shirts as promised, leaving one at the foot of each bed, informing them that they could wear them whenever they felt physically fit enough to dress themselves. They had nodded mutely, and watched the woman retreat behind the solid wooden door of the room they lay in.

"Hmm?" Arthur lay in his cot wide awake, his mind refusing to slow down. He kept replaying the ambush from earlier in the day. With the information that their weapons were covered in poison, it shed a new light on how he viewed the attack. The fact that poison was involved meant it was premeditated, which meant that whoever had arranged for it had known Arthur would be passing through the Northern Border towns. It was a rare trip that he took and always in different parts of the year, since it was usually these absences that left Camelot vulnerable.

But who would have known his route? Two names came to mind immediately. Morgana, she knew that this was a trip Uther had routinely made him undertake when he was Prince. In those days, the trips were always made during this quarter of the year. The spring. It was only when Arthur had taken the throne that he'd begun randomizing the timings of this trip since now there was no longer anyone to succeed him in the event of his death. It could very well have been Morgana. With Arthur out of the way, her (convoluted) claim to the throne could be realized. Logically it made the most sense. But there was one possibility that he had to consider.

Merlin.

It wasn't one he wanted to think about, but what else could he do? He'd made the plans with Merlin, shown him the route, talked about what they would be looking for. Morgana catching him would be a possibility, if she made the correct guesses. But Merlin? Merlin had all the information, and he had magic, what if Merlin had defected? The loyalty he possessed being turned when he started using Magic. For didn't all sorcerers turn to evil, make bed mates of it? What if Merlin -

"Arthur!" The voice, Lancelot's, was more insistent this time, drawing Arthur out of his tortured thoughts. He was almost relieved to have to think of something else. Even if only for a moment.

"Yes. Sorry. I was thinking. What is it Lancelot?"

There was a small silence, and then.

"Where do you think he is?"

Neither of them had to put a name to the question. They were both aware of whom Lancelot spoke. Since that day in the forest, it had been a tacit agreement never to say his name aloud. It made it easier for Arthur to talk about him, like he was some unnamed entity rather than Merlin, his best friend. The man who made it possible for him to love Gwenivere. The man who brought him Lancelot and Gwaine.

"I don't know Lancelot. He was always...resourceful. I'm sure he was able to find something to do with himself."

"His life revolved around you for the last 6 years Arthur. What else could he possibly have to do in his life?"

"So what? The alternative is thinking that he would be a quivering mess without me for him to serve? No, we both know that's not true." Arthur shot back, bristling from the underlying accusation in Lancelot's words. Why was he the villain in this? Merlin was the one practicing magic!

Lancelot's words came a little delayed. The darkness of the room allowed for a certain bluntness, since it cloaked each from the other, removing the need to speak whilst gauging the others' expression. It was freeing.

"He's never stayed anywhere other than Ealdor or Camelot. Would he know how to survive?"

"He's like an insect. Of everything we ever went through, he's always come out uninjured. He's resilient. Always has been."

"Hm." There was rustling and Arthur could vaguely make out Lancelot's silhouette, sitting up. "He saved my life you know. Multiple times, with that ...skill, you know."

"Lancelot, don't."

"He never would have had to reveal himself you know. That Griffin was going to kill you, not Mer – not him. He didn't have to use magic. He could have waited until one of us got him off you. But you surviving would have been impossible. He revealed himself, to save you."

The silence that stretched between them was immense, reflective of their stances about what happened that day. Arthur could not deny that fact. Merlin had used magic to save him. But it changed nothing. Magic was corruption, if not now, then eventually, but come it would. That was certainty.

"He's committed a crime Lancelot. That I let him live is in itself a boon."

"A crime in the eyes of Uther. He had his reasons to hate magic. What's yours?"

Arthur found he had no answer to that. Not one that didn't involve his father.

. . . . .

Morning came quickly, it seemed to Merlin. He'd spent the night sleeping in the chair in main room of the house. Every 2 hours he'd checked on the Arthur and the others making sure there had been no complications. For his research in Old Man Grindle's books, Nightshade poisoning took 2 days to fully work itself out of the system. That meant that once it was nightfall, he could let them go, and return to his new life. Peaceful and orderly.

A loud clatter startled Merlin and he glanced to his left to see the doors to both the girls and boys rooms open and the sleepy figures of Godric, Rowena, Helga and Salazar came tottering out.

"Good –yawn- good morning Mistress." They came and sort of collapsed like sleepy kittens at his feet. Merlin smiled despite of himself, he'd only known the children for little over 7 days. But he had genuinely come to love them. Rowena with her coy affection, Godric and Helga's full frontal assault of love and Salazar's reluctant admissions of 'okay, maybe I like her' had all made a special place for themselves in his heart.

"Mistresss. I'm hungryyyyyy." Salazar whined, stretching on the floor, the other's yawned again and Merlin thought to himself that the cat comparison was truly accurate. He gave Salazar an affectionate ruffle and got up.

"Alright. Breakfast it is. All of you go make your beds. Rowena, go check on our guests, ask them if they're up for breakfast, I expect their stomachs will be making them weak with hunger." Rowena nodded and ran down the hallway, smoothing her hair and tentatively opened the door to the patients room and found them still to be sleeping. Merlin took the time to change clothes, from the green dress into a soft red velvet dress with a gold colored sash and corset lacing in the back. (It was a gift from the ever grateful Eliana, who had turned out to be a master seamstress, for the amount of clothes she had gifted Merlin, which would put Morgana's own collection to shame). Rowena tiptoed back to the kitchen and tugged on the sleeve to Merlin's dress. (When had that become normal?)

"They're still sleeping Mistress." Merlin shrugged and continued in his perusal of ingredients for breakfast. He picked the sausages and greens that Arthur was used to eating for breakfast. One of the perks for working for Carhaix had ended up being the access to the entire village's goods which they brought him a portion of in payment for his physician's duties.

"Alright then. Rowena, do me a favor and go down to the village and grab me some thyme from Madame Winifred." Rowena's eyes lit up, from being given a task to and hastily grabbed her shoes for the outdoors, nearly knocking over the lumber axe in the process.

"Slowly Rowena, Madame Winifred isn't going anywhere." Rowena flushed and nodded, grabbing her cloak and skipped down the pathway to the village.

Whilst Rowena was out for her errands, Merlin and the children busied themselves in preparing for the day. Godric swept the hearth and straightened the furniture that had been knocked asunder from the excitement from yesterday. Helga assisted in setting the plates out on the trays to take for the Knights while Salazar helped Merlin in the kitchen.

This had been a surprise to discover that Salazar had a love for cooking, for food rather. He enjoyed making bread and revelled in the coming together of meals, particularly stews.

In the time being, Merlin had cooked breakfast and arranged them on the subsequent trays, carrying two at a time towards the room where the Arthur and the other's lay sleeping.

The slamming of the door jerked the Knights awake, all of their heads lifting off their pillows, to see Merlin – Elladora – bringing in breakfast. Steaming trays of sausages and other meats and vegetables that made their mouths water. Gwaine, ever the opportunist, shuffled up so he was sitting and eagerly took his tray from Helga and passed the other to Lancelot who blearily took the tray from him before he was truly aware of what it was.

"Good morning!" Merlin called out cheerily, ignoring their winces at her loud voice. "Up and at 'em." The phrase froze Arthur's spoon which was halfway to his mouth already. Merlin barely noticed and continued in passing out food and clay goblets of water. "Arthur. What's wrong? Forgot how to use a spoon?"

Arthur realized he'd never once said his name and looked sharply at the woman, as if seeing her for the first time. She came up to perhaps his ear, and had skin as white as snow. Her eyes were a cerulean blue that made her black hair seem even more even more dark and shiny, falling in wavy curves over her shoulders and down her back to rest above her waist. Her hands were thin and long, mirroring the rest of her physique.

"I don't believe I've told you my name yet, and I still don't know how we ended up here." Arthur said carefully and felt rather than saw the sudden tensing of his Knights in the room. Elladora wasn't fazed in the slightest and speared her own sausage and munched on it, gesturing for the children to dig in as well.

"It's not a hard guess to make. Silver chainmail," He gestured to the pile lying beside Lancelot and Gwaine's bed. "And the red capes with gold lions embroidered on them. I've the flag that flies above your kingdom. The way the other's defer to you easily sets you apart as their leader. As for how you ended up here, that would be by the grace of the child sitting next to me." The Knights turned their attention to Helga who flushed under their scrutiny.

"She came upon you all taking a very nice nap, while your horses seem to have made a rather permanent escape." Merlin allowed himself the small jibe. He didn't owe them anything as Elladora, he could say whatever he wanted. I could get used to this.

"We weren't napping!" Elyan snapped, his ire somewhat undermined by the enthusiastic sound of his chewing. Merlin raised an eyebrow. Arthur seemed momentarily mollified by Merlin's version of the truth, returning to his meal.

"Yes, yes. Well, Helga and Rowena and I brought you back to the house, Godric and Salazar made the poultices that are currently healing your wounds." Gwaine clapped Godric on the back, making him beam in pride. Salazar looked miffed at the lack of appreciation, until Percival offered him a piece of his own sausage as thanks. Merlin watched with affection as Salazar tore into the sausage with gusto, still getting used to the idea that he was able to eat foods like this so often.

It was a peaceful tableau, and when it was overturned, it was by the most banal of things. Something Merlin probably should have seen coming. Rowena chose that moment to return, carrying a satchel of thyme and a white rose. She ran in, hair streaming behind, excitement all over her face.

"Mistress! Mistress look what I can do!" She skidded to a stop in front of Merlin in the room and held her hand out over the rose, changing its color from pure white to a deep purple.

Silence fell in the room, its temperature dropping by several degrees. Merlin was so horrified he contemplated stabbing himself with the lance just to put himself out of his own misery. He watched Arthur's expression turn thunderous. Gwaine exchanged a look with Lancelot, one of dismay. Elyan, Leon and Percival struggled to get out of bed, sensing their services would be needed soon.

"Sorcery." Merlin blocked his view of Rowena, covering her the decidedly frightening look on the King's face.

"Now, Arthur -" He turned his anger on to Merlin next, grabbing his wrist tightly.

"You are a sorcerer." Merlin yanked his hand free, rubbing his wrist where Arthur had grasped it. "You. You must have taught her. Where else would a child that small have learned that! How dare you practice magic in my Kingdom!" The Knights rose from their beds, Leon holding Arthur back slightly.

Merlin watched apprehensively as Arthur worked himself up to a frenzy.

"What about Magic is so appealing?! What about it justifies your corruption of a small child? How many more will you subject to your perverse views of power? Is power so important?" Inside Arthur was raging. Why did everyone around him insist on doing the one thing that made more angry than anything else?

Merlin attempted to calm him down, putting a placating hand on his arm. He jerked, flinging his arm away. Merlin stumbled from the motion going back two steps and tripping on his dress. He fell on the ground with a small shriek, his forehead hitting the wall, resulting in small gash above his eyebrow.

Arthur looked startled, almost moving towards Merlin, clearly having not intended on pushing him so hard. Rowena stood rooted to the floor, terrified by the sudden violence in Arthur's behavior and it was her stillness that frightened Merlin the most. When the rumbling began, Merlin was shocked to realize that it's source was Rowena.

"Rowena. Rowena. Calm down!" But it was too late, her eyes filled with tears and her lip quivered. Merlin cursed internally, she was too far gone. Merlin covered his ears as Rowena wept, wailing as the rumbling increased, the Knights followed suit as Godric tugged on Rowena's sleeve to try and calm her down. Her distress was becoming difficult for even Rowena to control.

It was too late. She let out the shriek yet, ones that made the plates shatter and things fall from the shelves. Merlin crouched on the ground, covering Helga, Godric and Salazar under him, protecting them from the falling objects. The ground shaking caused Arthur and Leon to fall in a tangled heap on the cot behind them, the other's holding on to their breakfasts for dear life.

Then in complete fear, Rowena turned and ran right back out the door and into the forest, ignoring Merlin's screaming from behind her.

"Rowena! Rowena! Come back! Rowena!"

But she was gone, and Merlin had no idea where.


	7. Rowena

It's a short chapter today guys, but I just had to get this down. Thank you so much for the comments! They motivate me to keep writing! I'm hoping the next chapter will be out by Sunday. (Hopefully). As always, please comment if you like my brain baby, I look forward to hearing your ideas and thoughts!

 **Chapter 7: Rowena**

It was _always_ like this. Always, always, always! Merlin gingerly rose to his feet when the rumbling stopped. His head spun slightly from hitting the wall earlier. He surveyed the damage around him. They'd lost an entire tray of crockery and 4 jars of herbs and poultices were unusable. He noted with dread that the two poultices that were casualties were the two for the village elder. They would be here tomorrow to pick it up and now he had to brew them _again._

Merlin helped Godric, Salazar and Helga up off the floor, dusting off Helga's dress and straightening Salazar's robes when she noticed a bleeding cut on Salazar's arm. He grabbed it, bringing it closer for inspection.

"Salazar, did something hit you just now?" Salazar wordlessly pointed to a shattered wooden charm that now lay in pieces on the floor, eyes wide as were the eyes of the other two, still trying to process what had just happened. Merlin recognized the shape it had once been as the druidic symbol for protection. Merlin felt something rise in him, something that had been either absent for a long time or maybe he had simply repressed it. He hadn't been able to afford feeling the way he was. Now however, the feeling was making itself known, and quite forcefully too.

Merlin was _angry._

It had been years since Merlin had gotten angry, _properly_ angry. It welled up in him until he could stand it no longer, he whirled around, facing the knights with flinty eyes, any reservations he'd had earlier gone. Arthur and Leon had finally gotten themselves upright, Gwaine and Lancelot were making sure they were in one piece while Elyan and Percival were checking the chainmail to see if it had sustained any damages. They froze when they noticed the change in Merlin's eyes, and it made Gwaine swallow, he had no way of knowing this, but he felt he had seen this before. Those eyes, that fury, it was familiar to him. But from where? He simply couldn't place it.

"Helga." The redhead looked up from inspecting the remains of her breakfast on the floor and found herself staring at the ramrod straight back of her Mistress.

"Yes." The response came out squeakier than Helga had intended.

"Take Godric and Salazar and go find Rowena. When you find her, send me a message and I will come to get you." Merlin's eyes never left Arthur's face. He felt a strange sense of satisfaction when the man's eyes darted around, as if using his warrior instincts to taste the fury that permeated the air. The knights circled Merlin warily until they flanked Arthur's sides. None of them had their swords so it was their bodies that tensed in response to the decidedly confrontational tone in Merlin's voice.

Helga, despite being the younger of the two boys, grabbed their hands, ignoring the protests that they wanted to watch and dragged them out into the forest. Once Merlin was sure they were out of immediate reach, he surreptitiously cast a muffling spell on the door. He didn't want them to hear what he had to say, lest it influence their opinions of things to come later.

"Alright. I've been patient, you were sick and I didn't want to kick a man while he was ill, but honestly, _what on earth do you think you're doing Arthur Pendragon._ "

Leon's eyes widened in indignation at Elladora's unabashed insult of Arthur's position. Elyan gaped at her, while Percival tried to look anywhere but at Merlin and Arthur, standing in the middle of the main room of the home. Lancelot and Gwaine, standing to the left of their King could see in Elladora's face that something in her had fundamentally changed. Her eyes had changed, losing their softness and instead staring at Arthur was something neither of them could fully identify. It was like a mix of disappointment and frustration.

"Excuse me?" Merlin could see that the King was affronted by the lack of deference from him, despite the fact that he had admitted not two minutes ago that Merlin was aware he was in the company of the King and his Knights. _Well, if he expects me to grovel at his feet,_ Merlin thought, _he's well and truly mistaken._ He stepped forward and pointed a finger out the open, swinging door.

"Are you quite happy? A grown man such as yourself, you accomplished a gargantuan task today. _Making a child cry._ " Arthur's eyes narrowed, not one to back down from a confrontation, getting right in Merlin's face.

"In case you're sense of reason has gone the same way as your sense of morality, I'd like to remind you that she clearly committed a crime." He was practically nose to nose with Merlin, who thought that if he could roll his eyes any further into his head, he would.

"What crime? She turned a flower _purple_? When was that a crime? Did she hurt you? Do you have a closet fear of flora?" Merlin couldn't help the rather rude tone of voice, but he was done. Who was Arthur to condemn people without an ounce of thought?

Arthur's face remained in the expression of righteousness that he adopted when he believed he was doing something for the good of someone. Merlin knew without a doubt that he would try to appeal to Merlin's sense of duty next.

"Magic is a crime in Camelot, surely you know that? You are their mother are you not? How can you just stand by and watch them indulge something that is sure to take their lives in the end?" He tried to reach out and grasp Merlin's shoulder in a show of solidarity, to make Merlin see he only wanted the best for the children. His eyes pleading for him to understand what he meant. Merlin flinched away from his touch, knocking his hand away with the back of his arm.

" _Don't touch me._ " Merlin's voice was hard, it was jarring to see that even his act of sacrifice back at the castle hadn't even been enough to shift the King's stance on magic. Arthur took a step, hand raised away in a gesture to show he meant no harm.

"Why? Who decided that magic was illegal?" Arthur made an unintelligible sound in the back of his throat in surprise at the sudden change in the argument. Merlin saw Lancelot murmur something to Percival behind Arthur and the subsequent rolling of the large man's shoulders, in preparation for a defense if need be.

"My father. A woman your age should know that." Merlin scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest over, the very picture of defiance.

"Oh, of course. I should have known. _Like father, like son."_ Merlin knew it was a low blow, but since Arthur wasn't pulling his punches, neither would he. Arthur never liked being compared to his father, knowing that the public used the similarities as an insult rather than a compliment. Merlin saw that the remark had had the intended result, seeing the tightening of his jaw in response.

"Tell me, are you ever going to think for _yourself,_ Arthur? Or are you going to forever cling to the hope that your father was right in everything he did? Use your brain for once and _think!"_ Merlin didn't flinch as Leon jammed his body in between the intense face-off between Merlin and Arthur with a look of ferocious outrage.

" _He is your King and you will speak to him with respect,_ _woman!"_ The house shook with the ear-splitting roar of Leon's words. Merlin wasted no time in retorting to the statement.

"Respect? I give respect when I am afforded such treatment in response!" Merlin knew he was stepping beyond his limits. Arthur was his King, but he needed the man to understand, truly understand, what he was trying to say. "You don't understand do you? Uther spent his whole life telling you that you would one day be King, that your servants needed your protection, that the Kingdom would look to you for guidance. But he was wrong, being a King means being a slave to the people. You serve _them,_ not the other way around. The sooner you understand what that means, you will know what you need to defeat those who seek to tear Camelot apart." Merlin then addressed the former portion of Leon's demands.

"My King?" He smiled bitterly, "as he's graciously stated time and again, Arthur Pendragon is no King to the likes me and mine." Merlin picked up a blue orchid and touched a petal, watching the color bleed to a deep red, not unlike the color of his dress. "I

"I knew there was something unnatural about you, you're one of them." Elyan bit out, advancing toward Elladora, only to be stopped by Arthur's outstretched hand. He said nothing, but just watched. Merlin cursed his female body, as the tears of the unfairness of it all pricked at his eyes. He refused to cry, his mother had never cried in front of him and he would not cry, not here, not now.

"Yes, I am a sorcerer, and suddenly just by knowing this, the fact that I saved you from death's door and nursed you back to health matter naught." Merlin raised his head proudly, he would not be ashamed for what he was. His powers were a gift and he would not show the children that were now in his care, that they had to hide their reality. He would not subject them to that life.

This, _this_ was his destiny. He had to prove to himself, to Arthur, to the whole world if need be, that Magic was not evil. It wasn't meant to be destroyed, it was meant to be studied, used for its splendor.

"What has our world come to? That a small girl cannot revel in the fact that she can make a flower change colors? Or a little boy is able to make the leaves dance? Who do they hurt by doing these things?" Arthur's expression flickered, unsure.

"Magic leads to corruption." Merlin could have torn his hair out in frustration.

"Where is your proof?"

"All those that wield magic have tried to take my life." Merlin wheeled around and picked up Arthur's sword from the pile of weapons that Godric had hastily deposited next to the front door. He weighed it in his hands, seeing Gwaine eye him apprehensively. He deftly tossed the sword to Arthur who caught it naturally, the action coming as second nature.

"I've met slave traders who held me at sword point, mercenaries who've attempted to kill me more times than I care to keep track of. You tell me, is the sword evil or the person?" Arthur had no response for that, just watching Merlin's face, his eyes telling the warlock all he needed to know. He ploughed on. If he could just get Arthur to _see._

"Arthur, magic is like a sword, in the right hands, it's a blessing, a sign of the righteous. Like you, and your Knight's." Merlin gestured to the Knights standing rigid and at attention. "In the wrong hands, the sword becomes nothing more than a murderer's tool. An instrument in an evil design, but nothing more."

Merlin, watched, hope blooming in his heart, as he saw Arthur unquestionably turn over his words in his mind. He was clearly shaken, his beliefs unable to repair the cracks Merlin had mercilessly knocked into the walls of his logic.

Arthur began to speak, his manner hesitant. But whatever he may have been about to say was drowned out by an outbreak of yelling in front of the cabin.

The entire group started at the intrusion into the uneasy stand-off that they were engaged in, and stared in bewilderment as Helga, Godric and Salazar ran out of the bush, behind them followed Derek, bruised and clearly limping. But it was something else that caught Merlin's attention, the sight thrusting shards of ice cold fear into his heart.

Derek ran toward him carrying a child, bleeding from a large stomach wound, skin growing paler each second it took them to reach the house. Merlin couldn't help the scream that clawed its way out of his throat.

 _"ROWENA!"_


	8. Roar

A/N: A short chapter. I do hope you like it. Thank you so much for the comments. They make me want to write even more.  
Keep 'em coming. I love reading your thoughts. It helps shape the narrative.

 **Chapter** **8:** **Roar**

Auntie always said that if you tried your hardest, then you could do anything you wanted. No one could say you were bad, or that they didn't want you.

 _She lied._

Rowena didn't know where she was going, but anywhere other than there. With the scary man with the angry eyes. She crashed through the forest, seemingly oblivious to the complete destruction her magic was wreaking on her surroundings. Before she knew it, Rowena found herself at the south side of Carhaix. It appeared she had exited the forest behind Thomas Crane's home. She was breathing hard, chest heaving, when she turned around to look back the way she had come. To her utter shock, her pathway through the forest was glaringly obvious as it looked as if a giant had blundered his way through. Branches were cracked and broken, laying on the ground above the trampled fauna that lined the forest floor.

Rowena was so absorbed in looking at the woods she had come through that she didn't notice the approach of footsteps until a light hand came down on her shoulder, making her jump. Rowena spun around, coming face to face with Thomas Crane. He peered kindly down at her.

"Now, what are you doing here all by yourself dear?" Rowena found herself to unsure of how to describe her predicament to say anything. She watched as Crane took a good look at the forest behind her. To her surprise, he said nothing, instead he said mildly.

"My. I wonder how that happened. We've got some rather large beasts in these parts. Best be careful if I were you Rowena. Now, what's say you we go get ourselves some nice hot tea and you can tell me how you like Carhaix, hmm?"

Rowena nodded mutely, and allowed herself into the Crane household. Once inside, she noticed Mrs. Crane sitting near the hearth, a full blaze going, stirring what appeared to be some kind of stew. A full basket of bread sat at her side and the smell of it wafted over Rowena, making her stomach growl and she realized with a start that she never had a chance to eat breakfast. Crane must have noticed her hunger because the next thing Rowena knew, she was sitting at the table, with a bowl of venison stew and fresh baked bread. As she dug in, Rowena briefly thought of Mistress Elladora and about how worried she'd be, but then she remembered everyone's horrified expression when she had come in that morning with the flower.

She pushed the plate away, suddenly no longer very hungry.

"Are you feeling homesick Rowena?" She looked at Crane in astonishment, her young eyes clearly belying her emotions.

"Homesick? For our old home?" She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the very idea. "Never. The people were horrid, mean people." Crane nodded, his face as if considering her words.

"Then what's got our young miss in such a snit?" His eyes bored into hers, he wasn't very good with children, but if Thomas Crane was gifted in anything, it was in reading people. He knew that Mistress Elladora was nothing of what she said she was, but her actions in the marketplace that first day were more than enough for him to make a reading of her character. But of all the things Elladora had said she was, an ordinary woman was _definitely_ not what she was.

Rowena bit her lip, she might be young, but even she knew she wasn't supposed to tell people what she could do. She looked at Crane, this old man who leaned on the table, leaning on one elbow, staring at her curiously.

"There's some sick people that Mistress is taking care of." Rowena hedged, she wasn't sure why she was telling him, but for some reason, she felt she could. He nodded solemnly, like he knew what they were talking about was serious. Rowena felt proud. He was _actually_ listening to her.

"They're...important people I think."

"Oh?"

"Mistress said something about a King." Rowena noticed Crane's eyes become slightly wider, but when he didn't say anything more on the topic she forged ahead.

"I think I did something that made them very angry. He was yelling at Mistress." Crane gestured for her to continue. Rowena sighed with relief, she didn't have to explain what she had done.

"What if.." Rowena hadn't said this out loud yet, as if saying it would make it more real. "What if they take Mistress away? Burn her like the neighbors burned Auntie back home?" Crane went rigid in his chair, staring at Rowena with what looked like a mixture of shock and horrification. He grabbed her arm urgently, squeezing it hard with almost bruising force, his eyes wild.

"Ouch! Mister, you're hurting me!"

"Rowena, listen to me -!"

But whatever he may have been about to say was drowned out in the sound of a loud _boom_ nearby. The door abruptly swung open to reveal Derek, sweating and sooty, stumbling in, thick smoke billowing in after him. Crane swiftly rose to his feet, instantly at his son's side, supporting his weight on his shoulder.

"Derek! What happened? What is this smoke?" Derek coughed, a dry, hacking sound.

"Bastards! They - " He rasped, his voice giving out halfway, grasping his father's shoulders, almost shaking them.

"What?"

"A caravan from Pellinor's Kingdom, bunch of thugs the lot of them. They destroyed Helaine's tavern! It's naught but rubble, people trapped inside and they're _laughing!"_ Derek didn't have to say much more, Rowena saw Crane march straight out the door, pausing only to grab an ice pick hanging on a hook near the door, swinging it to rest on his shoulder.

She hesitated for all of one second before peeling out right after him, her short stride making it so that she was a constant distance behind the rapid run of the village elder ahead of her, dodging Derek's hands that tried to prevent her from following.

 _"Hey! Rowena, it's too dangerous! You must stay here! What will I tell Elladora if something happens to you?!"_

They heard the screams before they saw the source. When Crane and Rowena reached the tavern, they found he hadn't been exaggerating when he had said it was rubble. The once large and focal point of the town now lay in a smoking pile on the ground, nothing but timber and glass. Rowena's eyes watered from the smoke but she forced herself past it. She could hear the screams of those trapped inside, in great pain and fear.

In the forefront of the mess, she saw Crane, standing in front of the tavern, his eyes zeroing in on a group of men, 12 of them, standing with torches and swords, tall and muscular, with the broadest shoulders Rowena had ever seen. They looked for all the world as if they were at a festival, the way they laughed and carried on in the midst of the destruction. Every so often, they would touch their torches to the wood, and wait for that particular section to catch fire, until it was a veritable blaze.

Rowena could see Crane's fists shake at his sides, as he took in the scene, the chaos and the panic. There were women wailing and scrabbling for the rubble that had been the tavern, only to be rebuffed by the men. Crane squared his shoulders and rushed forward, shouting instructions to the villagers that were staring at the wreckage in shock, unable to comprehend what their small village had turned into.

"Adelaide! Water, get as much of it as you can, Winifred, help her! We can't afford for it to catch fire, It'll turn us into one massive pyre!"

"Right away!" Rowena watched the women rush away, hitching their skirts up and running as if the devil himself had set upon them.

"Arawn! Ector! The two of you gather as many able bodied men you can and get in there! We need to get them out or they will die if they haven't already!"

The two men immediately ran into the crowd and began to motion men towards them, gathering a a force strong enough to lift the timber off the people trapped under the building.

Crane's approach to the tavern was blocked almost instantly, by sword point. The leader, seemingly, of the group, fat and pudgy. His face was a revolting shade of pasty white, his teeth yellowing and seemingly huge in correspondence to his sunken, eyes and thin lips.

"Wher' ya think yar goin' ya barmy ol' codger?" Rowena noticed with disgust, the spittle that followed the man's words, though Crane didn't bat an eyelash.

"This is my village and my people are in there." The man's eyes narrowed.

"Yer gonna do nuthin' if ya know wha's good fer ya. Thos' peas'nts got exactly wha' they deserved. Do ya' simpletons even know who I work fo'? The good Lady Morgana and her Ward Lord Claudas! Best stay outta ma' way if ya' wan' ta be keepin' that head on that ancient neck of yous'!" His voice was as thick as his neck and came out as if squeezed through a vice. Crane's lips thinned as the screams behind him increased. Rowena winced, she had heard those screams before. It was the last time they had heard Auntie.

It was the sound of someone burning to death.

"I won't stand for some halfwit swinging around a sword, killing my people. You may try to stop me, but nothing will get in my way. I _will_ put that fire out and I _will_ save them."

The sword pressed harder against Crane's throat.

"I swear to ya' ya' take a singl' step o'er there and I'll cut ya throat wher' ya stand."

It was at this moment that Derek finally arrived behind Rowena, huffing and puffing from the exertion of having run on his injured leg.

"Da!" The momentary distraction served enough to divert the thug's attention to Derek and Crane used it as an opportunity to slip past him. But he was old, and Rowena knew that the sword would catch him before he would even be able to touch the tavern. The thug roared and swung his hand down, his sword aiming for Crane's stomach, he turned at the noise and raised the ice pick in an effort to deflect the attack.

She ran forward and threw up her hands, in an effort to use her magic to create a shield like she'd seen Mistress Elladora do again and again when they tried to get viper venom to create antidotes. The snake had never gotten past the barrier and Rowena felt sure it would save old man Crane from the sword. So it was a blow to feel the stinging slice of the blade as it carved a path from hip bone to navel.

"ROWENA!"

Rowena heard the elder scream her name, muffled in her head as she crumpled to the ground, flat on her back, her arms falling limply by her side.

Derek felt the blood drain from his face as he watched the man raise his sword, and Rowena threw herself in front of it, taking the blow. He watched the fury on his father's face as he attacked him with the ice pick, a whirlwind of rage. It was a sight to see the short, portly, genial and _lovable_ elder of Carhaix attacking a thug more than twice his height.

"Derek, take her to Elladora!"

"But-" Derek was torn between Rowena and his aged father, fighting alone against such a burly man alone.

"NOW!" The village elder all but roared the command, startling Derek into motion. He ran forward and grabbed the child, noting with terror the absolute slackness of her tiny body, her blood seeping through his fingers and dotting the ground with crimson spots.

With one last look at his father, fighting against a swordsman with nothing but an icepick, he turned and tore through the woods, heading for Elladora's cabin as fast his injured feet would take him. And when he found Salazar, Godric and Helga searching for Rowena in the forest, his heart dropped further when they began to scream at the frightening sight.

. . . . . . .

Merlin had had no idea how much the children had come to mean to him in the short amount of time that they had been together, until he saw Derek come streaking through the forest with the other children, carrying Rowena.

"Rowena!"

His conversation with Arthur forgotten, Merlin practically shoved the King aside to run to Derek's side. Rowena was a sickening white in color and when Derek laid her down in the bed that Gwaine and Lancelot had been lying in, Merlin couldn't contain his gasp of dread when he cut the dress off to reveal the cut on her abdomen. He snapped orders to the children, before realizing they were practically in a vegetative state, unable to reconcile what was happening with reality. He got up and rushed around the cabin, pushing the knights out the away to get the materials he needed.

He knelt back next to Rowena, seeing how much blood she was losing and decided his best option was to stitch the wound shut, to staunch the flow of blood as much as possible. He turned her gently to her side, and tore the dress open over her stomach and began to stitch it closed. Merlin quickly flashed through his memory to a spell he had seen once in a medicine book, describing a spell for internal healing. He murmured through it and hoped to whatever deity was listening to heed his prayers and save her.

"What happened?" Merlin heard Arthur ask Derek, his nerves pulled taut as he worked as fast as he could. He desperately wished Gaius were here. He would have known what to do with an injury like this. He saw that Rowena no longer looked as if she were on the cusp of death but he had no way of being sure.

"Some bastards rode into town, got into a fight with Helaine – our tavern Mistress – and set the whole damn thing to light. The tavern's in ruins and there are people trapped and the lot of them won't let any us near enough to get anyone out."

There was barely a moments silence before Merlin knew Arthur had made his decision.

"Armor up. All of you, we're going to put a stop to this." Merlin heard the clanking of chain mail and armor and spared a glance to the children, seeing them come back slightly to themselves. The poor things were shaking, eyes wide as saucers. Helga touched Rowena's face, covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

"But we don't just need someone to stop them, we need Mistress Elladora, there are so many injured! We can't bring them all here, they wouldn't survive the trip!" Derek ruffled his hands through his hair, the thought of his father fighting that man struck fear into his heart.

"She can't leave the child!" Lancelot hissed, clearly distressed between the choices they had. It was then that Percival spoke, in his reliable and firm way.

"I'll watch the girl. My mum was a physician. Nowhere near as good as Gaius, but she dealt with nasty sword wounds often. I can do it. Besides, this leg," Merlin heard him smack his left leg, the one with the giant cut nearly to the bone. "Will only make me a burden."

Percival hobbled over to where Merlin was knelt next to Rowena and raised him to his feet, holding his shoulders to guide him. He peered at him, as if checking whether he was in control of his senses.

"Mistress, I'll watch over her, with the other children, you are needed in Carhaix." Merlin nodded stiffly and let the larger man pry the cloth from his hands and push him gently towards the others. He gave Arthur a strained nod, in gesticulation of their momentary truce in the face of the current events. He returned it icily, there earlier argument no where near forgotten.

They instantly took off at run towards the town, where a thick plume of smoke was clearly visible over the tree tops.

. . . . .

The smell of burning flesh struck Merlin's nostrils with palpable force, nauseating him. He nearly crashed into Gwaine's back as they entered the town square where the tavern had been located. It was up in flames, the heat of the inferno itself creating an impenetrable wall.

In front of it, Merlin saw with incredulity, the very same man who had picked him up that first day after he had left Camelot. Then with near hysteria, he saw that at the man's feet lay Crane, an ice pick clutched ineffectually in his hand, though it was covered in blood too.

Merlin was roaring and charging at the man before he had even time to consider his actions, too incensed to care. He shoved his hands out, sending out a wave of energy that knocked the men on their backs, as Merlin ran and slid to a stop by Crane, turning him over to see his condition. Arthur and his Knight's followed, surrounding him, warily eyeing the men who had got back on their feet and were all rather angry now and advancing, swords, clubs and maces out.

"Father!" Derek collapsed next to his father, nearly in tears. Merlin's eyes watered as he took in the state of the man's chest. It was a mess, the shirt stained red, a big tear in the fabric revealing a single, deep stab wound that was dangerously close to his heart. Merlin closed his eyes in defeat as he realized there was nothing he could do for Crane, not now, maybe if he had been younger, with a stronger body, to withstand the damage. But he was too old, he wouldn't survive the recovery, even if Merlin used Magic to help him.

A hand on his cheek had Merlin snapping his head up to see Crane's eyes open and lucid, searching Merlin's own face.

"Derek," he said, his voice scratchy and wet, the edges of his mouth red, staining his teeth. The man, grown as he was, began to sob. The hand that clutched his son's tightened.

"Take care of your mother. Don't _ever – cough –_ leave her alone." Derek nodded and bowed his head, unable to contain his tears.

"Elladora." Crane's voice was getting weaker and taking on a squelchy quality. Merlin leaned closer, bringing Crane's head to rest on his lap, his skirt becoming stained with blood.

"I know - " He turned his head and coughed, a puddle of blood landing in the singed grass. "I know you are not as you seem." He winced in pain, his chest heaving, breathing becoming more difficult. Merlin closed his eyes, trying to block it out, this was the first time someone had died while he watched, after Freya. And he couldn't do a single thing.

"The legends are true then." He wheezed, "Magic returns to Albion through the guidance of Emrys." Merlin gaped at him, then caught sight of a symbol just under his left ear, and cursed silently. He should have seen it before.

He was a druid.

"You're a druid." Merlin whispered in a hushed tone. Crane grimaced.

"Once. Long ago. It means nothing now. I left that way of life years ago." He clutched Merlin's hand, the pressure strong in its urgency. "You must stay strong. They will hunt you for an age, Emrys, but there will be a time. _Magic will return and Albion will be great. But not without you._ _ **Never**_ _without you. You must return to him. Return to your destiny."_

The hand gripping his went limp and the eyes glassy, Crane's chest finally stilling. Merlin stared, unblinking at the man who had suddenly become a corpse in his arms.

His mind spun, Crane was dead, Rowena might still die and he had to return to a man who wanted nothing more than to see him dead.

Merlin tipped his head back, tears of frustration wetting his cheeks and did what he had wanted to do since the day his life had gone to hell.

He roared.


	9. Missing Him

A/N: Hello again. This chapter took me somewhere weird. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT. Thank you so much for the comments, I love seeing your reactions.  
The next chapter should be up sometime Monday or Tuesday. PLEASE COMMENT AND LET ME KNOW HOW IM DOING.

 **Chapter 9: Missing Him**

Merlin was done. He was just done with everything. As he knelt on the ground next to Crane's limp form, Merlin yelled a cry of frustration into the air. It was enough to make his blood boil, the animals in this world. He watched the slave traders circle the knights, wary of the way they held themselves, indicative of combat training, even a fool could tell that. They still had grins on their faces, triumphant over their perceived victory.

"Awww, look at the girlie, cryin' o'er the dead old man. Was he your panderer, eh missy?" Merlin felt his cheeks grow hot, through his frustration. That he had to share the world he lived in with scum such as this was infuriating, he tried to breathe through his nose, willing himself to look away from Derek's sobbing figure, grieving his father's death, whose head snapped up at the insult to both Elladora and his father's character. His face was sooty from the fire and streaked from the tears that streamed unchecked down his cheeks.

"You will take those words back you spineless bastards." Derek's eyes swam with tears as he spit the venomous words out. Another man from the group laughed, the sound smug and grating on their ears. He was spindly and looked filthy, his expensive clothes covered in grime and his teeth blackened, no doubt from continued chewing of tobacco.

"An' whatchu gonna do boy? I'll cut ya down the same way Master here cut down yer miserable excuse for a pa." Derek's eyes flashed and he made to charge the man, but Merlin threw an arm out, blocking Derek from advancing. Arthur took over then, addressing the crew the first time, while effectively distracting them from the townspeople's renewed efforts to put out the blaze that had consumed the tavern.

The screaming had stopped, Gwaine noticed with a grimace. It didn't bode well for those trapped inside. Either they were so injured that they had lost consciousness, or...or they no longer required the help that was desperately coming. He forced himself to pay attention to the men in front of them. Then Arthur spoke, drawing his focus.

"I am going to ask you _once_ , lay down your weapons and I will spare you injury. Come quietly and face the consequences of your actions." Arthur did not yell, he did not rage as Merlin or Crane had. Instead, his eyes bore a quiet, deadly intent. Merlin had seen this look countless times before. He was trying to avoid killing, and only offered this as a way out to those who he saw were afflicted with blood lust. And afflicted they were. Anyone could see that these men were taking pleasure from the chaos that they had wreaked on the small town. Reveling in the townspeople's attempts to drag their neighbors and relatives out from the wreckage.

The slave traders, who had yet to introduce themselves by name, openly laughed in Arthur's face.

"Ya hur that men? He'll _let us go."_ He made an expression of mock contrition. "'Oh we're ever so sorry sir.' Who the hell made ye' boss and gave ya' power to pass judgmen' on us? _Huh?_ Ya lousy oaf? Ya couldn't even get rid of Lady Morgana's men wit' out nearly killin' yerselves!" The man who had spoken earlier said the words with glee until he was whacked upside the head by the 'Master'.

"Ya fool! Her Ladyship told us not to mention those twits!" The group looked alarmed momentarily, eyes flicking about as if Morgana were to appear by mere mention of her name. Arthur's brow furrowed as he took in the implications of their words. Then it had been Morgana. A weight eased off of Arthur's chest as his worst fear was thwarted, at least for now. Wherever he was, Merlin had not been behind this attempt on his life. He readjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword and caught Lancelot's eye. They communicated wordlessly, a plan of attack, their backs creating a shield around Elladora and her two comrades, one of whom Arthur could see had died.

The scene in front Merlin's eyes wavered abruptly, and Merlin tried to steady himself. He knew what this was, an inconvenient side effect of having been in the crystal caves earlier in the year, that he'd had to bear was the sudden onslaught of visions at usually the most inopportune moments. His mind's eye showed him a glimpse of the future, a man in dark robes, drinking the blood of a slain unicorn, an enormous serpent with paralyzing power. He staggered where he stood, his mind recoiling from sensing the _evil_ in the man his mind saw. A man with an ashen face, as serpentine in appearance as his vile pet that followed his every move. When his subconscious released his psyche, Merlin felt violated, a feeling of seeing something he wished he hadn't, but now had no other choice to but to carry knowledge.

In the moment of their distraction, Arthur, Gwaine and Leon barrelled forwards, surprising the slave traders, who tried to flee the attack by withdrawing and gaining momentum to counterattack which was blocked by simple fact that Lancelot and Elyan blocked their path of withdrawal .

It was a brief scuffle that followed, their attempts to rebel were pitiful in the face of Arthur's more knowledgeable and more practiced assault. It was mere moments before the group lay in a heap afore the smoldering heap that had once been the tavern. In the midst of their face, the townspeople had managed to control and eliminate the blaze, but as the smoke billowed out and away from the structure, Merlin knew that the hardest part of the ordeal was yet to come.

Leon made quick work of divesting them of their weapons and minimal armor, tying them to nearby tree, with knots that made sure any attempt to escape the restraints would result in self-injury. Merlin thought all of two minutes before he decided to use his magic in the town. They had already seen him use magic, and things could not get much worse. He knelt back down next to Thomas Crane's body, closing his eyes with a gentle hand, and crossing his arms over his chest. Derek quickly wiped his tears with the cuff of his sleeve, now stained red from his father's blood and scooped the man up in his arms, laying him some distance away from the Tavern, near the wreckage of what had been the marketplace.

With the imprisonment of the criminals out of the way, Arthur, Merlin and the Knight's began to help with the retrieval of people from Helaine's tavern. As the men dragged the charred timber out of the way, Merlin found he wasn't much help physically, his female form not capable of as much labor. He instead held his hands out, palms open, and then curled them into fists and raised them up and back toward him. In response, the wood rumbled, then levitated from the pile, and with effort, Merlin deposited it some distance from the crash site. Wiping his sweating hands on his tunic, Merlin turned back around to see the Arthur and the Knight's staring at him openmouthed.

Merlin shrugged.

"It would take forever if we waited for you to lift it by yourselves." Was the only explanation he offered, returning to the task. Arthur pursed his lips when he saw that the townspeople seemed to have no problem with Elladora and her sorcery. This was new territory for him. A woman who so astutely embodied everything that he had thought magic wasn't. She actually reminded him of – Arthur shook his head, refusing to think of Merlin and all that he was – had been.

Soon enough, under the combined minstrations of Elladora and Arthur and his company, they had unearthed the remainder of those that had been trapped inside the inferno.

Thankfully, the casualties were few. Helaine, who had ended up trapped in the cellar of the building was none the worse for wear, save for some isolated burns on her extremities. She was, however, spitting mad. As soon as Elladora had given her the all clear in terms of health, ("you're rather lucky Mistress" "Luck had nothing to do with it dearie. Now, leave me be, I'm nowhere near hurt enough for you to be wasting those valuable medicines on me. Off with you now."). Helaine, with her wild, short curly hair, and short, stocky build, had marched right over to where Leon stood, guarding the prisoners, and slapped the Master right across the face. The man's face cracked to the side from the force of it, Leon winced.

Helaine got right in his face.

"I hear these nice men are from the Capital ya trout." She grabbed his ear, ignoring his obscenely worded protests and silencing him with a sharp twist of the aforementioned ear. "Take a good look, because this is the face of the woman who landed your arse in the dungeons, and with any luck, it will take you to the gallows as well." Master's face paled as he realized the ramifications of what his capture meant. Helaine straightened, a hand braced on her back, and hobbled away, to find her husband, _where was the lazy oaf any how?_

As Merlin patched up the last of the injured he was relieved that this had ended with only two casualties, both who had directly been killed by the slave traders. The rest of the trapped had received rather significant burns. Eliane, who had been helping out, had sustained a large burn down the left side of her back, it left the skin red, raw and blistering. Merlin had her bite down on a leather bit as he tried to work out how best to heal her. He placed his hand directly on the burn, trying not to flinch at the feel of the burnt flesh and willed the skin to weave itself anew over the wound.

And so it went for most of the severely burned patients. Merlin kept magicking away the burns and for those who had sustained easily remedied injuries, he applied medicinal poultices and sent them on their way, promising swift recovery. He was aware, of course, that the entire times, Arthur watched him like a hawk. In fact they all were.

He was the center of attention. A sorcerer, openly practicing magic, without fear of its repercussions. Merlin was almost dizzy with the thought. Or that might have been the energy he was putting into the healing spells, by now, he was having trouble finding the difference between the two.

When the last of the bandages was tied, Merlin got to his feet, surprised when he found himself unable to stay balanced on his feet. Derek was quick to catch him, a hand curling protectively around his waist. Merlin sighed and unwound the hand, patting it comfortingly and looked into Derek's eyes, feeling sorrow for having played with a man's affections. He glanced back at Crane's prone form.

"I am sorry, you know. I wish I could have done something for him." But before Merlin had finished his sentence, Derek was already shaking his head.

"No." The words were soft but growing stronger as he spoke. "There was nothing you could have done, even a sorceress cannot stop death from taking what he has already claimed." The words sent Merlin's mind right back to Rowena, lying back at the cabin. He had no idea what her condition was, and everything in his body was telling him to run back.

Derek must have sensed where his mind had gone, because he let go of his hand and lightly pushed her towards the forest.

"Go. I know you must be worried." Merlin looked hesitatingly at the rest of the villagers who nodded in agreement. A woman with a white scarf tied over her brown hair, her face smudged with soot encouraged him.

"Go, Elladora, she's a brave child, I saw she was trying to protect the elder, though in the end, the bastards finished the job." Merlin remembered her name to be Adelaide, and strode forward to hug her, his words failing to convey the gratitude he felt at their willingness to look past his abilities and see him (well her), for who he was. Then he turned, grabbed his skirts, and ran headlong into the forest, ignorant of whether the Knights and their leader followed or not.

. . . . . . .

When Merlin arrived at the cabin, breathless and fearful, he was slightly hopeful to see that the chimney puffing out smoke. He dimly registered the knights breaking through the forest foliage behind him. He took a deep breath and opened the door to the house.

The first thing he noted was that there was no one in the main room of the house, and at the end of the hallway, he spotted the patient room door ajar. Merlin whispered a quick prayer to Freya, to Avalon, to _whoever_ was listening to save his daughter. The thought gave him pause as he stood just at the door, _his_ _daughter._ Merlin realized that these children, who he had at firdt rescued on a whim had become irreplaceable to him. The reasonable part of his mind protested that he'd known the children for a brief amount of time and really, how could he be sure he loved them? Merlin shrugged the thought away. They were his in everything but blood, and since when had blood been a deciding element in who you could and couldn't consider family?

Merlin pushed past the door and entered the room to find Percival, Helga, Godric and Salazar watching Rowena's face intently as she slept on the cot. A fire crackled in the hearth and Percival was using a tender hand to continually wipe down her forehead, to prevent a fever from settling in.

Merlin cleared his throat, startling them, he approached the bed slowly.

"How is she?" His eyes roved over her tiny frame, looking for signs of any complications. Percival looked up at her, eyes unreadable.

"She looks to be getting better. I cannot tell if she's getting better but she's breathing without struggling. My mother always told me that was a good sign." Merlin gave him a small smile. He finally gave his attention to the other three children. His mild guiltily reminded him that the children had gone through _two_ traumatic events in one day, _(Arthur you absolute prat_ , his mind unhelpfully snarled), and he'd barely given them a moments attention notice.

He reached out and gathered all of their hands in his. Merlin saw with some sadness that there was a smudge of blood on Helga's cheek, likely Rowena's, and he found himself choked with emotion. It was unfair what they had had to go through, without someone to guide them. Who knows how long they had been alone since the death of their auntie, Merlin resolved never to let them feel abandoned again.

He licked his thumb and rubbed the blood off of Helga's cheek before pulling the three of them into a hug.

"I'm sorry." He said, his voice muffled in Godric's thick hair. "I'm sorry for leaving you alone today. I'm sorry that Rowena got hurt. I'm sorry I couldn't protect her." Merlin felt all the children snuggle closer for a moment. In the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware that the Knights and Arthur had re-entered his home. He ignored it, he would deal with them later. They all crowded into the room and Merlin could hear them consulting with Percival over what had happened on either end of the situation.

 _"...tied up outside the house, shouldn't be able to escape but we should probably sleep outside regardless."_

 _"..was touch-and-go for a while, but eventually she got better. I've never seen anything like it."_

"Mnngh." The soft sound, though quiet, rattled loudly through the air in room, every head swiveled towards Rowena, whose eyelids were fluttering open. Merlin ran to the ebony haired child, frantic, his hands bracketing the child's head on either side as he leaned down, trying to ascertain whether she was waking up or just groaning in her sleep.

After what seemed like an age, Rowena's slowly opened, blurry and unfocused.

"Rowena? Rowena, can you hear me? Do you know who I am?" Merlin tried waving a hand before her eyes, to give her something to focus on. It worked as he saw Rowena trying to figure out how her mouth worked again.

"Mist-" The words died in her throat as her eyes widened, her gaze locking with Arthur's behind Merlin.

"NO!" She shrieked, her legs kicking up under the blankets. Merlin tried to calm her down. It was understandable that she would be wary of Arthur after this morning's debacle. What he wasn't expecting, however, was that with every stomp of Rowena's foot on the bed, the thick and corded vines that sprouted through the cracks in the floor board.

Arthur made a placating gesture, taking a step towards Rowena.

"It's alright, you're okay - "

"No! Please! I'll be good!" Her arms wound tight in an iron grip around Merlin's shoulder's, yanking him down until he was almost lying down next to Rowena, the position bringing him into a kneeling position at her bedside. Merlin tried to pry her arms off but found them too taught to tension. "Please don't take Mistress away! I won't do magic, I won't do anything, _just don't burn her!"_

Arthur recoiled as if stung. It was jarring, to see that in the child's eye, Arthur was a figure of fear. He was used to being hailed a savior and hero by his people that he found himself at a loss at the blatant terror in her eyes. Her words reverberated in the air, heavy with meaning, the untold story unraveling itself slightly. Elladora spoke soothingly to Rowena, and the knight's and the children took this as their cue to retreat from the room quietly.

They closed the door and sat for a moment, silently in the main room. Here too, a fire flamed brightly, warming the room, and a smell of cooking meat wafted through the air. Arthur turned to find Salazar stirring a pot over the fire, the movements jerky and forced.

"We were making food, in case Rowena was hungry when she woke up." Godric's voice was small in the room, his face only half illuminated as Gwaine saw the sunset reflected in young Helga's forlorn eyes. She clung tightly to Godric's hand, like a lifeline.

"What Rowena mean when she said …" Lancelot's question was quiet, and gentle, unintrusive though very intrusive in nature. The silence following the question stretched for so long that Lancelot assumed his inquiry had been ignored. He was just about to get up and try to find something to do, when Salazar's icy voice rang out, anger washing over his every word.

"Auntie took us in when we were just babies. Our parents decided we were too dangerous." His words were taut, seemingly ill-fitted on such a small child.

"You don't know that Salazar - "

"Don't pretend Godric. Our parents didn't want us." The brunette had no response to that, Gwaine was already with the dark beginning of the conversation, never mind that they hadn't even begin to truly discuss what had truly happened.

"Auntie raised us, she taught us how to keep ourselves from doing magic in front of us. She wasn't magic. She didn't have a single magic bone in her body. That's what she used to say." Salazar's expression was grim, despite the memory, the fondness it should have elicited replaced by what Percival could only identify as sadness. He was reminded of her, she had been tall, bony but incredibly strong. Her friendly pats on the back had been a source of annoyance for him.

"The village people didn't like her. Kept saying something about being a suspicious spinster. They thought she was magic because she had an herb garden that would make the King himself jealous. That's what Auntie was would tell us." Arthur had a horrible feeling he knew exactly where this story was going.

"Last month. The villagers got into their heads that Auntie was the reason that one of the girls in the village had died. She came to us a few days earlier asking for some basil, she wanted to pulp it for a poultice. But then the idiot had to do die by falling down the well. She - " Arthur watched apprehensively as Salazar furiously tried to force his mouth to work, but his own betrayed him. He couldn't find the words to continue.

"They broke the door down." It was Helga's timid voice that continued Salazar's abandoned story. Her finger's nervously knotted in the skirt of her dress as she continued, the words pouring out almost as if she couldn't stop. "It was dark, we were all sleeping. They dragged Auntie out of bed, they had sticks with fire, and pitchforks and they were so _angry._ It wasn't our fault Emma died, but they wouldn't listen. We tried to get them to stop. Honest, we did. But-but, Auntie told us not to get involved, she said they were all idiots and that if she were _really_ a witch, they'd all be toads, then their insides and outsides would finally look the same. And then -"

"And then they tied her to a stake and burned her." Godric finished, interrupting Helga, not allowing her to utter the words. "She burned for ages. At first she could say things. Then...then she got quiet. And when it was over...Auntie was gone." Godric stared at the ground, remembering what it had been like to stare at the pile of blackened ash and know that it was their mother.

"We were alone for three weeks. We had nothing to eat. We begged the Baker's wife to give something, scraps, we don't eat a lot, but she wasn't in the practice to give the devil food she said. Then, one day they got really angry." Salazar had found his voice, returning to the tale of what had been their lives what felt like an eternity ago but was in reality had only happened a fortnight ago. "They chased us through the village, calling us devil's spawn. That's when Mistress Elladora appeared." Now there was the ghost of a smile on Salazar's lips. "Now, we're here."

The silence that followed their tale was horrified. Elyan and Percival were mirror images of outraged fury. Lancelot, Gwaine and Leon looked positively nauseated. Arthur could scarcely believe his ears. An innocent woman burned at the stake for a crime she hadn't committed, and yet, all four of these children were magic. By their own admission. What was he to do with that information? There had never been a case like this when his father had been King. Surely he wouldn't have executed children? Arthur had no idea what to do.

Magic was evil. This he knew. But what of impressionable youth? What now?

Nothing made sense.

. . . . . . . . .

By the time Merlin had managed to calm Rowena down, it was deep into the night. It was silent, and Merlin hoped the Knight's had been useful and at least helped the children to sleep. Merlin eased into the hallway, illuminated only by the height of the moon in the sky. It was a milky white orb in the sky, hung in the sky like an ornate painting.

A crack made Merlin jump, head turning to find the source of the noise, and after a moment, he realized it came from directly outside, under the window. The large tree outside the house was where the slave traders were tied up to be taken to Camelot in the morning. That meant that someone must have been sitting outside, keeping watch in shifts. They were propped up against the cabin walls, outside, watching the men as they squirmed, involuntarily sleeping against the restraints.

"What are you thinking?" Merlin recognized Percival's measured and sure voice. The night was still for a period, then:

"I keep thinking about _him_ and what he would do right now." Gwaine's voice sounded distant and far away, like he was lost in thought.

"Merlin?"

"Yeah. He always knew what to say. What to do. Anything that happened, you could count on Merlin to fix it."

"...He truly was like that wasn't he." There was a huff of laughter from Gwaine at that.

"Truly he was. I know you didn't know him as long as Lancelot and I have, but he had this way about him. That awful smile of his and those god-awful ears of his. He could make you smile by being his odd, odd self.

Percival was quiet as Merlin had often seen him get when someone spoke with him at length. It was as if he was weighing whether or not to say something. Perhaps it was something in Gwaine's expression that prompted him to say what he did next.

"….You loved him."

" _Love_ , him. Not past tense. Present. And Lords help me, I know I shouldn't, but I do."

Merlin's arms fell to his sides, utterly gobsmacked. His exhausted brain was creaking to life, sputtering in the wake of Gwaine's confession to Percival.

Gwaine sighed, low and desolate.

"He was the first friend I ever had, and...I miss him."


	10. What?

A/N:Hello again!  
Some what of a filler chapter here again.  
Tell me what you think pretty please! :)  
As always, thank you immensely for the comments. They mean the world to me and I look forward to more.  
The next chapter should be out by thursday or friday. Thank you again!

 **Chapter 10:What?**

Merlin liked surprises. There was something thrilling about being faced with the unexpected. But as he woke up, after a fitful night's sleep, his hair mussed and decidedly far more tangled than he was used to, Merlin decided that surprises could go hang for all he cared. He had fallen asleep next to Rowena in the patient room, and a quick listen told him that the Knights were still asleep, despite the early hour. Normally they would have been up and about by this time but it seemed that the Nightshade had left them feeling slightly fatigued.

After checking on Rowena, waking her briefly to feed her a concoction of different fruit juices to fortify her, Merlin crept out to the kitchen, intending to prepare a quick breakfast for the hodgepodge of guests that had piled into his home. Cooking had always been therapeutic for Merlin, the movements of cooking, repetitive and mechanical, allowed him time to think things over.

Gwaine had said something that shook Merlin to his core last night. Nevermind the fact that Merlin wasn't meant to over hear it, the fact was that he had. Gwaine loved him. Loved him. Loved Merlin. The thought made his hands tremble as the smell of porridge filled the air, enveloping him in the calming scent. It made him think of all the times he had cooked this dish for Arthur and the Knigh- damn, he was thinking about Gwaine again.

Merlin had never thought about Gwaine that way. At all. Well, to be honest, he hadn't thought of anyone like that. Not after – not after Freya. The thought of giving someone a part of himself was terrifying. He hadn't even known Freya for all that long but when she died the pain had been indescribable. Like someone was squeezing his heart and just wouldn't let go. It wasn''t even as if he had a problem with Gwaine's sex, he had seen enough trysts in the solitary nights of Camelot's castle to educate him thoroughly on how gender mattered for nothing in the throes of passion. Or love.

Truth be told, he didn't know if he even loved Gwaine at all. Could he? Did he want to? Did it matter?

That was the real crux of the matter, Merlin thought to himself bitterly. It didn't matter if he could love Gwaine or not, he would never even get to hear Gwaine tell him in real life. He was never to see them again as Merlin. Never to appear in front of Arthur's eyes again. He dropped the spoon he'd been using to stir the porridge, watching the utensil sink into the thick liquid, the thin reed like spoon disappearing as if swallowed by a powerful force. Like himself. The events following his flight from Camelot had snowballed into a beast unrecognizable even to himself.

So drastically had his situation changed that Merlin found he had yet to acclimate himself to the changes. One problem at a time, Merlin. He scolded himself, reminding him that if he turned himself hysterical this early in the morning, the rest of the day was going to be rather difficult.

"Elladora?" Merlin nearly jumped out of his skin at the rough male voice, hoarse with sleep, that accompanied the loud shriek of the cabin door being opened. He spun around, drawing the apron he wore self consciously over his dress. It was Lancelot at the door, hair messy and eyes bleary from sleep.

As he peered at him, Merlin wiped his hands on the apron and straightened his back, he would deal with Gwaine and his affections, later, right now he was Elladora, the sorceress, the angry sorceress.

"That's Mistress Elladora to you, sir Knight. I don't believe we are close enough to warrant such familiar methods of addressing each other." He snipped as he grabbed another spoon to fish the drowned one out of the cauldron. Lancelot looked chastised and amended his phrasing.

"My apologies, Mistress. You are right of course, although," Lancelot glanced behind him as Merlin set about ladling porridge out into bowls and cutting bread into pieces to put on the plates next to each bowl on the table. Merlin spared him a look, busy as he was, to note that Lancelot seemed to be trying to speak quietly to avoid being heard by the others.

"I feel that I must say this, I do not believe you to be a corrupt or evil person." Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? As if that's not what I've said from the beginning, but thank you, I suppose, for the sentiment." Lancelot seemed momentarily stumped at the cool response to what he had anticipated should have caused gratitude. Merlin felt bad suddenly, Lancelot wasn't the one he should be annoyed at. Even Gwaine. It was the others, the idiots who insisted on being blinded by years of prejudice.

"I had a friend once," Lancelot said hesitantly, his deep voice pausing, as if debating whether or not to continue his sentence. "A friend with...talents, like yours." Merlin nodded, knowing he was referring to himself.

"He was a sorcerer." He said it flatly, he was tired of people skirting around the issue. He was a sorcerer, but he was much more than that. He was a friend, a son, in one time he'd been a lover, he was a bloody human, and he deserved to be treated like it.

"He was my manservant." Arthur's form appeared in the door behind Lancelot, who nearly jumped out his skin at his sudden entrance. Arthur didn't look at Lancelot, Elladora, or even the others as they filed in behind him, going instead to stand respectfully in the center of the living space in Merlin's cabin. Arthur bowed to Merlin, the gesture low and formal. He tried to attempt a half bow, deciding that any lower and he'd be flashing his, as he'd once heard a woman say, goods to the Knights. There was no way he was going to curtsey to the King, not after he'd so brazenly rejected him yesterday. Leon looked to be nearing apoplexy at the indecent behavior to his King, but a staying hand on his forearm restrained him. He calmed himself and stood behind Arthur dutifully.

"Your manservant, a sorcerer? What a fool." Gwaine looked affronted, and said as much.

"A fool, Mistress. Merlin was many things, but a fool isn't one of them." Arthur stayed silent, a point that Merlin didn't miss, and while he didn't regret his actions that day, it only served to remind him how far he would have to go to disabuse Arthur of his misconceptions and prejudices. Damn Uther.

"Then you're as foolish as Merlin. What sorcerer in his right mind would take a post under the nose of the most magic-hating family in all of Camelot? Merlin never knew when to stop. He was always doing

things first, instead of thinking them through." Merlin realized his mistake too late, when he saw Arthur fumble in his retying of his cuffs, looking disconcerted at Elladora's slip of the tongue.

"You knew him?" Leon asked him sharply. Merlin didn't look away from Arthur's gaze, so unnerved as he responded.

"I know him. Don't make him sound dead when he's not." Merlin couldn't help it, they made him sound like some bloody dead criminal. "He's right fool, pledging his undying allegiance to a man that promised to kill him the next time he saw him." Merlin deliberately poked a toe into what he knew would be a sore point to Arthur. Sure enough, the young King, ever the hothead, responded to the baiting.

"He knew magic was a crime, but he did it anyways!" Merlin rolled his eyes. It was like listening to a parrot. The same squawking over and over again.

"Did it ever occur to you to try talking to the idiot? Instead of throwing his arse out of the castle – you know what, I'm just , I'm not going to do this again. I won't get into an argument with someone who has no intention to listen."

Arthur huffed at him, eyes flaring in indignance at being denied a chance to rebuff Merlin's rebuke. Merlin ignored it and gestured to the table, small and meant to seat only four but now crowded with 10 bowls of food. It was going to be tight, or not, Merlin thought, as Arthur and the Knights hesitantly came to the table to seat themselves, Merlin could clearly hear them jostling about, trying to find the right angles to seat themselves comfortably.

"Your knee is in my shin!"

"So keep your shin out of my knee!"

Such children.

Merlin briskly walked to the overcrowded table and grabbed one end.

"Excuse me gentlemen." His eyes flashed golden as he pulled the table toward him, watching it stretch like taffy. Elyan's eyes went comically round, and Leon practically levitated away from the table, eyeing it suspiciously, then turning to level his chair with the same misgiving look.

"Handy, that." Was all Lancelot had to say, the words remarkably bland for the reactions the sight had elicited from the group. Merlin hmm'd in response, grinned and turned to wake up the children and check on Rowena.

"Did you see that?" Elyan hissed at the others.

"It's hardly anything extraordinary." Came Arthur's annoyed response.

"But she – the table – it grew!" This was Leon, intrigued despite himself.

"I feel like that's probably something Merlin would do." This was Lancelot, the bemusement in his voice clear. Of the rest of them, he had the most experience with magic.

"You're right, Merlin attacking people? He'd probably blow his own head off first." Gwaine laughed good naturedly at his own joke and Merlin scowled. Is this how you were supposed to talk about the object of your affections? He made a mental note to knock Gwaine flat on his vain ass if he ever got to see him as Merlin again.

. . . . .

Some hours later, Merlin had managed to get the children up and fed. Rowena had woken up and was thankfully none the worse for wear. It seemed his healing spell had worked, and she was fine, barring the slight discomfort she still felt in the wound. He hadn't been able to heal her without a scar though. Though it was now a raised white line on her stomach, joining the other marks he saw on her small body. Various scars from beatings he knew was the villagers way of "beating" the magic out of them.

She was definitely, however, back to her old self. None of the previous day's hysteria remained, instead she treated the group with a sort of cool disdain, refusing to speak unless directly spoken to, and herself deigning to ignore them entirely. Especially Arthur.

Merlin had found it terribly hard not to laugh, when Rowena showed Arthur exactly what she thought of him as he packed up camp with the other Knights and the prisoners to take back to Camelot. He stood awkwardly in front of Merlin, rubbing the back of his neck as Merlin himself stood in the doorway to his cabin, leaning on the frame. The children were coming back in after giving each Knight a satchel of fruit, bread and cheese, for the ride back to Camelot.

Merlin could see Arthur furiously trying to work out how to address them. He settled for a quiet 'thank you' as they passed him. Rowena, who was last to go in, stopped when she heard the words. Merlin saw her eyes narrow before she swiftly turned around, strode back over to Arthur, looked up at him sweetly for a second, eliciting a confused smile from him, before she lifted her small foot and brought it down with surprising force on the toes of Arthur's leather clad foot.

"Ah! Mprggh!" Arthur let out the beginning of a yelp before clamping down on the sound when he Gwaine's snort and Percival's barely concealed laugh.

Merlin slapped a hand over his mouth as he managed to eke out a barely strict, "Rowena!", before trying to not laugh as she skipped past, flipping her hair as she went.

"You would do well to teach those children some manners Mistress Elladora." Merlin shrugged.

"I'm not sure, I think they're doing fine myself."

"Oh let it go Arthur, she's just a kid!" Gwaine called out, his horse cantering where it stood. Leon and Elyan had borrowed a wagon from the village to transport the prisoners on, who were knocked out after they attempted an early morning escape. Needless to say, it hadn't gone very well.

Arthur got onto his horse, flexing his foot and suddenly everything got quiet. Merlin came to the realization that once Arthur left, there was no knowing when they would see each other again, if they would see each other again. It was perturbing to think of.

Merlin looked over the group, who looked back at him. Arthur cleared his throat and spoke after a moment of consideration.

"Thank you, Mistress Elladora, for your...assistance." Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Oh for pity's sake. Why must you make this so awkward. As long as you don't make a skewer out of me, we'll call it even with the whole," she gestured to slave traders. "Idiots thing."

There was an unreadable silence as Arthur and Merlin weighed each other in their eyes.

"Even." Arthur nodded, and turned his horse around, leading his company away from the house, from Merlin, away from his life, leaving Merlin standing in the doorway, watching his figure grow smaller, and smaller.

. . . . . .

Adjusting to life after Arthur, after the attack on the village, after the loss of Crane, was...difficult. Merlin had run into Arthur only a weeks after leaving Camelot, and it dampened the initial consequences of leaving.

But now, Arthur was gone and all that was left, was the shambles of the village. Derek had taken over Crane's post as village elder. Two weeks after the village had managed pull itself out its wrecked state and ended up almost as good as before. Helaine had a good sense of humor and used it to try and make her new tavern even better than her old one.

It was after three weeks had passed that Merlin faced his first problem, one that directly correlated to his newfound identity as Elladora. Derek Crane had decided to propose of all things. It was an awkward, mortifying and goosebump inducing debacle.

The man had gotten on one knee and presented him with a twined ring of hemp and tiny daisies on its circumference. Merlin felt his face flame red, now more sorry than ever that he'd decided to take this form. Derek had professed his love for him, (now wasn't that a sentence to consider?) and now Merlin felt like an unintentional tease.

The air had been even more awkward as it was when Merlin gently withdrew his hand and back up two steps, holding his hand against his chest. He'd shaken his head, gesturing to the house behind him, with four curious heads poking out, watching. Derek had understood then, taken it for the excuse and yet legitimate reason that it was.

A month after than, in the crisp fall season, Derek wedded Eliana in a beautiful ceremony. Merlin thought Eliana had never looked more beautiful, radiant in her happiness. The wedding lasted all day and night, the entire village taking part in the revelry.

It was that day that Merlin came to the conclusion that he could no longer spend his days cavalierly living in this body that wasn't his. He resolved to call in the one being that could help him with his plight. That night as the children slept, Merlin crept out of the house in the dark of night, to a clearing out of earshot, he took a deep breath and called everything in him to command Kilgrrah to him.

Within moments, the tell tale flap of his wings permeated the air and when he landed, Merlin could hear the huffed laughing even before his wings folded to his sides. He pulled a face at the dragon's mirth.

"My, my warlock. You make a ravishing woman, I must say." He chortled. Merlin grimaced.

"Don't laugh! I can't get rid of it!" He stamped his foot forlornly out of frustration. That just made him laugh harder.

"What have you done with yourself in the time that I have been gone?"

"More than I care to admit to be honest." Merlin said, hands on his hips.

"Well let's see then. What have we got here." Kilgrrah blew a breath over him, and lay down, crossing his front paws in front of him and laying his head on it, his large eyes trained on the woman before him.

"I can remove it for you." Merlin's eyes brightened in hope. " But it won't mean anything if you do not understand why you cannot remove it yourself." The confusion in his expression must have shown because Kilgrrah took pity on him.

"You cannot remove it, little one, because you do not want to remove it."

"I what?"

"You ran away, Merlin. From who you are. Who you were meant to be, who you will be. You must accept your identity, both separate from Arthur and as Emrys. Only then will you be able to go back to being Merlin, the young boy of Ealdor."

With that said, Kilgrrah stood up stretching out, unfurled his wings and took to the skies, calling out as he flew away.

"I look forward to meeting again Merlin. Be it as man or woman." Merlin's ears burned red as he realized the great beast was making fun of him.

Bloody dragon thinks he's a comedian.

. . . . . .

Like this, fall turned to winter, winter to spring and spring to summer. The cycle went on and on, with Merlin watching as the children grew older and he grew no more. They spent much of their time healing those that stumbled into the village or those that were brought to them.

Many nights were spent taking of ill patients and around them, Rowena, Godric, Salazar and Helga grew from indulgent children to slightly less indulgent young adults. As they grew, both Salazar and Godric shot up, towering over Helga and Rowena, though still shorter than Merlin, and the younger girls lost some of their youthful chubbiness and instead slimmed down. Rowena's nose became her most treasured feature, while Helga was found rather...disheveled most of the time, seeing as her favorite hobby was looking after the plants in the garden.

Their relationship with Merlin himself had grown as well. Where they had been wary at first, wondering when he would leave them, soon, they found themselves trusting him. Like a real parent. Merlin dealt with all the typical things.

"Mistress! Mistress! Look!"

"What is it Godric?"

"Look, its my tooth! Salazar accidentally pulled it out. Look you can see the root. It sort of hurts actually."

"That is disgusting and I will thank you not to bring your freshly pulled out teeth into my kitchen."

Or perhaps the time, when Helga had just turned 12 and experienced her first heartbreak at the hands of the baker's son, Arown. Merlin was amused at how indignant both Godric and Salazar were on her behalf, even going so far as to having a "man to man" talk with the poor boy. Never mind that Godric was almost 14 and Salazar had only just turned 10, they still made an intimidating duo for the other children in the village.

Things were peaceful and for a time, Merlin nearly forgot Arthur and Camelot. Of course, he checked in from time to time. Helping out where he could. Morgana appeared to be laying low for the time being. Merlin had cast a spell of safety over the company when they had left, so he was sure that that was what was keeping them out of trouble, at least for now. But he could feel the spell waning and wondered what he would do when it finally broke.

Would he have to go find them? Merlin had made sure they wouldn't be able to find him again, by way of casting a spell to divert people from his home unless they arrived under specific circumstances. This was a topic that always made his head hurt so he tried not to think about it.

Instead he devoted his time to teaching the children magic, but as time went on, he found he was missing many thing to teach them and couldn't help for Gaius and his extensive treasure trove of knowledge. He mentioned as such to the children and thought nothing more of it until they broached the topic again a few weeks later in the summertime. Helga was 12, Rowena 13, Godric 14 and Salazar 10, Merlin was now 24 but didn't look a day over 20. He couldn't tell if this was a good thing or bad.

They were out collecting some mulberry leaves and samples of belladonna to make poison cures when Godric abruptly blurted out:

"Mistress will you take us to Camelot?" Merlin paused in his picking of the leaves and faced Godric, finding him looking timid but determined.

"What?"


	11. Nightmare

Hello my lovelies!  
Back again with another chapter. I quite like this one, if I do say so myself.  
This one is a sort of precursor, like an introduction to the second arc of the story. I hope you like it.  
Once again, thank you for the wonderful comments.  
I would very much like to receive more :)

I hope you enjoy the chapter!

 **Chapter 11:** **Nightmare**

The problem with children, Merlin was quickly learning, is that personal physical and emotional space _did not exist_ where they were concerned. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he hadn't quite fully explained himself to them, but they were becoming quite well versed in how to convince him to give his permission for them to do things he would really rather they not do. This included the time they managed to wrangle permission from him to learn a high level of spell casting that had resulted in splinching.

Merlin always winced at the memory. A couple months ago, he had discovered the ability to appear in one place to another with instantaneous speed. As in here one second, there the next. He had decided to call it 'apparation', there had been complications of course. The first time he'd done itm, he'd somehow managed to leave his dress behind, and had appeared at the second location naked as a newborn babe. Rowena had caught him doing it and told the others, this caused a veritable riot as Merlin had wrestled with whether or not he could teach them something he had only _just_ mastered.

Of course, being Merlin, he should have realized there was no way it wasn't going to go horribly wrong somehow. The night ,in tears and howls as they ended up with torn fingernails, and in Godric's case, a rather nasty bout of having to regrow teeth in his upper jaw. Needless to say, Merlin became very wary after that in terms of agreeing to their demands.

So when Godric asked him point blank to go to Camelot, Merlin's mind went momentarily blank. He had no idea that the young boy had even been entertaining the idea of going to the main Kingdom, much less that _all_ of them wanted to go, if the expectant looks he was receiving were anything to go by. He ended up saying "What?" Purely as a means to stall.

There was no way he could go to Camelot, but how was he going to make them understand that? He looked at the children, grown as they were. At age ten, Salazar's hair had gone from a gold blond to wheat color, that complimented his peachy skin, and crystalline blue eyes. He was average height for a boy his age, though stockier, for Salazar it meant nothing and he was constantly trying to find ways to make himself taller, pouring through spell books for an incantation that would help him, albeit he had yet to discover any. Merlin found in him and uncanny thirst for knowledge and even more pronounced desire to capitalize on that desire in ways he saw fit and often, that required Merlin to curb his curiosity, lest he hurt himself and others. Not that Salazar took it well, for a 10 year old, the kid sure had a _lot_ of pride.

Helga was the direct opposite of Salazar, in mentality at least. She was short, and content with it. She was 12, and the most happy child Merlin had had the fortune to meet. Her hair was a bright red, like the burnt orange of the sunset, and it followed into the freckles that spotted her healthy face. Her bright green eyes reminded Merlin of the fresh green apples that Winifred from the village brought them. Helga had the distinction of wanting to see the best in everyone she met, whether or not they were known to be good or bad, nice or mean, Helga always gave them her trust first, and more often than not, it left poor Helga in tears. Merlin supposed that it was Helga's way of combating her rather turmoiled childhood, this constant and tireless pursuit to find in the world the good that was denied to her as she grew up. That warmth was what gave Helga her talent in cultivating plants and her affinity for all things green and floral. If Merlin was unable to find Helga, he knew all he would have to do is step into the garden and there she would be, knee deep in mud, face streaked with dirt and smiling like she was the happiest girl in the world when she would look up and see Merlin standing in the doorway, watching her.

Where Helga was trusting and welcomed the people around her with open arms, Rowena was reserved and reluctant to bond with anyone other than her family. She refused to maintain trusting relationships with people who tried to extend welcoming hands to her. This became a counter productive to the young girl as her one passion in the world was knowledge and her _abrasive_ approach to people denied of access to many things. Rowena wanted to know _everything_. It reflected off her very, admittedly tall, being, in her onyx eyes, her pin straight black hair that ended at her shoulders, her pointed, almost hawkish nose. There eyes that sparkled with curiosity and intrigue. Merlin often found her nose deep in a book in his room, where old man Grindle had kept his books. She had so many questions about everything and anything. Where did it come from? How? When? Why? By who? _For_ who? She wouldn't rest until she had satisfied every inquiry and even then there was more to know or something else was discovered and the cycle would start _again._ Sometimes Merlin wondered where she kept such knowledge and found that Rowena had transformed into a walking spellbook. Even if she had never practiced the spell before, you could bet that the spell was somewhere in the fast vault that Rowena kept in her mind. And Lords beware if you ever happened, even accidentally, challenged Rowena something deemed impossible or improbable. Let it be known that Rowena was nothing, if not clever.

Of all the children, the one that Merlin had to keep the keenest eye on was Godric. The child was the biggest headache out of the four. Tall, brunette and well on his way to becoming a fully fledged man. Merlin didn't miss the way girls his age looked at him, although Godric didn't look their way for even a moment, since for him family came first. He had eyes the color of the loveliest brown, smooth and wide. He was the oldest and the hardest to keep in could see that living in the country, in the humdrum life of a healer was hardly the excitement that a young boy would thirst for. He reminded him of Will in all reality, in that there was a deep seated unease in him, a subconscious anger, perhaps from the his violent youth. Merlin frequently realized that as loving and polite as Godric was, he harbored a sizable amount of rage towards the world for what had happened to his Auntie. There had been moments where Merlin had overheard Godric talking quietly to Rowena about how he wished he could go back to the village and show them who held true power over them and the before Merlin felt like he had to intervene, Helga would appear behind Godric and massage his shoulders silently before hugging him from behind, before quietly saying that revenge was not what their Auntie would have wanted, that he knew as well as she did, that they did not want to live for such a violent goal. She wanted to live peacefully and maybe someday she could save someone's life like Auntie had theirs? Like how Elladora had come for them? That was always the phrase that would turn Godric away from the path that Merlin could tell he was so desperately tempted to follow.

It was then that Merlin realized that nothing less than the truth was going to work in this situation. He sighed, and gathered the rest of the herbs around him on the ground. He'd been arranging them into piles but he could no longer focus. He dumped them in together into his basket, resolving to sort them out at home. He gestured for the rest of them to rise and follow him, which they did. His silence as they walked back to the cabin allowed the four of them to mumble amongst them in the background.

"Oi, do you think we made her angry?"

"Watch your words, Salazar, 'oi' is hardly civilized speech."

"I'll speak however I bloody well want, thank you. Not all of us can pretend we're royalty like you can in that delusional head of yours, Ro."

"I'm older than you and I'll thank _you_ to -"

"Oh for the love of – will you two knock it off? She's not angry, maybe she just doesn't want to talk about it."

"But she didn't say yes or no."

"Maybe she just wants to talk to us at home instead?" That was Helga, quiet and unassuming. Merlin rolled his eyes, shifting the basket from one hand to the other. Just because he was walking in front didn't mean he'd suddenly lost his hearing.

"Speaking of, we keep calling her a she, but she's a he isn't she? I mean he?"

"Salazar, you can't just go around saying that, what if people hear you? They'll get the wrong idea."

"Well, I'm not wrong, she said she was a he. What did she say her name was ? Merly?"

"Merlin, you buffoon."

"Stop calling me names!"

"Like you said, I'll talk however I want -"

"Quiet. Clot-poles, the lot of you." Merlin turned around, as they reached the door to the house. Merlin fought the urge to laugh, listening to them bicker, as he opened the door and they all filed in. Once inside, Merlin thought to himself, that 7 years or so in, he made a fairly good parent, as he watched the children with practiced efficiency.

Once that was taken care of, Merlin went to the pantry and brought out some bread and cheese, fresh from the dairy farmer and the Baker, and sat down near the fireplace, waving his hand to the others to come sit with him, handing each their first serving.

"Alright. I suppose we're going to have to talk about this like adults." Merlin settled in the way he was most comfortable because he was about to delve into some topics that were _very_ uncomfortable for him. He sat, legs apart, knees up with his forearms draped over his bent knees, which probably looked odd for a woman, but Merlin scoffed at the notion. Having lived the last 7 years as a woman was annoyed at the sheer amount of _should_ and _should not's_ that existed for a woman's behavior. The fact that they exist at _all_ was ludicrous.

"You know why I'm like this," Merlin gestured to his body, with his long hair, fairly voluptuous yet slender figure and almost elven face.

"Because you bollocksed up a spell?" The comment earned Salazar a smart whack upside his blonde head and withering glances from the other kids. 'What?' He mouthed back at them, rubbing his head where Merlin had hit him.

"Because I tried to change forms to get away from some very bad people who were trying to capture a friend. But the spell went a _tiny_ bit wrong and I can't seem to get it off. The thing is, I shouldn't have been there at all. Not that I regret it, but my job was a high post in the castle."

Rowena's eye grew as big and as round as dinner plates.

"The castle? You worked at the castle?" Merlin nodded, carding his fingers through his unruly hair, the slender hands catching on any knots it found, untangling them absentmindedly Reliving the experience was threatening to bring forward emotions he'd forced down a long time ago.

"I didn't just work there, I was the manservant to the King's son. The Prince." Godric's mouth dropped open.

"The King, you mean you worked there when King Uther was alive?" Merlin inclined his head in affirmation and Helga looked at him in trepidation.

"But people say King Uther was the one who started burning people who were magic!"

"The Purge." Rowena said softly, looking at Merlin with something akin to awe.

"Yes, I worked there when he was King. But I didn't have much of a choice in whether I wanted to work or not. I made the mistake of saving the King's idiot son at a banquet, and as thanks he made me a servant." Salazar made a face at that.

"That hardly seems like a good reward." Merlin cracked a smile in response, remembering how he and Arthur had gotten to know each other.

"I was thinking the same thing. Although it paid well, how else do you think I had enough money to buy that feast we bought the first day? To make matters worse, the King's son didn't like me very much."

"Why?" Helga asked, having finished her first piece of bread and now reaching for another.

"I may or may not have called him an arse to his face." That sent them into peals of laughter, taking them some time to come back down from the high. "In any case, we didn't start off on the best of terms." Merlin remembered his first night in the dungeons and Gaius's frustrated face when he had come to drag Merlin's clumsy self out of it.

"But you know, what I discovered was that the both of us made some erroneous judgements about the other before we knew anything. As Rowena would say," He tapped the young girl on her nose affectionately. "You cannot hope to say you know everything when you have examined only one side of the facts, and that's exactly what happened. I realized the prince wasn't as big of an arse as I had thought him to be, and he in turn managed to humble himself a little. He was a fair man and a compassionate one. He was always fair if he could afford to be."

Godric let out a disbelieving snort to let Merlin know what he thought about that.

"Oh yes, Mistress, very fair. Sorcery is still outlawed and the order to burn on discovery still stands. " Merlin whapped Godric in the nose, causing his eyes to clench shut in surprise.

"Sneers don't suit you Godric. What did I _just_ say? The prince grew up in the castle. No matter how fair he wants to be, he can't pass a law about a topic he knows nothing about. In any case, we're veering away from the point. Camelot is still is the very home of those who hate magic the most."

"But they don't know that we have magic. What if we promise not to practice magic around the muggles?" Salazar said, the convincing ability of the argument was slightly undermined by the fact that Salazar had stuffed his cheeks full of cheese and bread like a chipmunk.

"That won't – Hang on, around the what's?" Merlin poked Salazar's full cheek.

"Muggles." Helga giggled while Salazar hurriedly swallowed the contents of his cheeks and finished her sentence before she could.

"It's a word I came up with. It means non-magic people." Salazar looked so proud of his invention that Merlin couldn't bring himself to tell him how positively preposterous the word was.

"Right. Okay. It won't matter if we refrain from practicing magic around _Muggles_ , I don't know if you remember, but a few years ago, the Knights who stayed here? The ones who helped us catch the men who killed the village Elder?" They nodded, recognizing the incident Merlin was speaking of.

"Well, that man that made Rowena, er, angry _._ He was the Prince, well now he's King, the man I used to serve." There was a sort of mind boggled silence, as they processed what that meant for them. Rowena connected all the dots first.

"So, you're saying, Mistress, that if we go, the King will know that we have magic."

"And while he may have let us go here, I don't know what he will do if he catches us there. In any case, he's the reason I left Camelot. He found out I had magic in a rather...unexpected way. He didn't take it too well."

Merlin tried not to dwell on the fact that it had been years since he'd been run out of Camelot, and the Knight's hadn't gone out looking for him even once. Of course he knew that they were in a tough position. He didn't expect them to defy Arthur, what then, would be the point in swearing fealty to the King if you were going to betray him for his manservant. But still, the thought stung. And beyond the initial scrying he had done, from time to time to ensure Camelot's safety and that Gaius was alright, Merlin had refrained from watching. It was like deliberately torturing yourself and he refused to do it. He had a new responsibility after all.

The kids understood what Merlin was saying and they sat forlornly in front of him, their hopes of going to Camelot dashed. He felt terrible but what was he to do? Going to Camelot was as good as handing themselves over as kindling.

"Why do you want to go to Camelot so much?" The question was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. _Oh very good Merlin. First tell them you can't take them, and_ ** _then_** _rub salt in the wound._

 _"_ Auntie used to tell us stories. Of all the wonderful things you could see there." Godric drew circles in the dirt floor of the cabin, the letter G appearing frequently.

"About the food you could eat, or the people you would see."

Merlin groaned. He knew he shouldn't have asked. He had a soft spot where their Aunt was concerned. Merlin frequently found himself wanting to do everything she had promised them, some kind of misguided attempt, in his own way, to honor the brave woman who had given her life to the children.

He buried his head in his hands as he came to his most definitely _very bad_ conclusion.

"Fine. Fine, fine, FINE. You win. We'll go." Godric's eyes lit up and Rowena and Helga clapped in excitement. "But!" Merlin held up a finger in warning, and to make sure they were paying attention. "We're going to apparate there, so that we can run away should we face the slightest dangers. _No,_ this is not up for discussion Salazar. If it were me alone, I wouldn't be frightened all that much of walking into Camelot as a _known_ sorcerer, but I will not endanger your lives. We are going to avoid any knights and the Royal family as if they were the plague. The first sign of trouble and we are all leaving. Is that understood?" They looked at each other and then at Merlin and held their hands up like they were being sworn into an official post.

"Yes Mistress." The words were chimed in perfect sync and Merlin couldn't help but feel slightly wary of the decision he'd just made.

. . . . . .

The next morning, at first light, when the sky was still an ashy grey, turning from the black of night to the brilliant blue of the day, Merlin woke his children up and still bleary eyed, had them trudging to the field behind the house. All four of them wore their best clothes. A lavender colored dress for Rowena, who had efficiently fastened her hair away from her face so as to take in all the sights. Helga wore a moss green frock, the sleeves already wrinkled from the last time she'd worn it. Salazar and Godric couldn't be bothered to care beyond making sure they were wearing their best shirts, and the rest they left as is. Brown trousers with black leather boots that were given as gifts from Derek.

Merlin prayed to Freya, (something he'd begun to do quite frequently of late), to make this trip as uneventful as possible.

"Okay. Remember, we don't want accidents like the first time we did this so hold on tight and think only of me." Merlin held his hands out on either side of him and waited for them to grab his outstretched hands. He had Rowena and Godric on one side and Helga and Salazar on the other.

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut and tried to envision the outer walls of the lower village of Camelot, with its many huts and little alleyways. He imagined in particular, the alleyway outside Gwenivere's old home. After a moment, he felt the ground drop out from underneath him, the motion giving him a nauseating feeling in his stomach. He heard the Rowena let out an ill-concealed yelp and Salazar mumble something about being sick. Then, suddenly, Merlin's feet hit solid ground roughly, and it sent him stumbling, making the others fall in turn. They made quite a sight, a woman and her children all fallen in a heap on the ground, groaning in nausea.

Yes, he was definitely going to have to work on that spell.

When they managed to get their bearings. Merlin made them hold hands again, despite their protests that they weren't kids anymore and that holding hands was _stupid_. One look from Merlin and a quiet question of 'do you want to go back then?' Accompanied by the appropriate raised eyebrow was enough to quell any further rebellions and let them get quickly from the lower village to the main square near the castle gates.

Merlin couldn't help but smile as they entered the square, their mouths dropping open as they took in the sheer multitude of stalls and food carts. There was a man selling toy trinkets that made the younger ones yank on his arm as if he were some kind of stable creature. His foot caught on the uneven ground as he struggled to keep up with the younger ones.

"Alright, alright, calm down! I'm coming! Rowena, I can't buy you the toy if I'm lying flat on ground with my brains dashed out."

"It's – It's you!" A hand shot out and grabbed Merlin's wrist, effectively trapping him between Rowena and a woman who was remarkably strong for one so – Then Merlin saw the hair, huge and bushy and so very _red._ There was only one woman he knew of with such hair.

Staring at him in shock, stood Lianora, aged by the 7 years in which they hadn't seen each other, but it was most definitely her. She looked completely staggered by Merlin. Then he remembered he was a woman and suddenly her shock was more understandable.

"It _is_ you! Why do you still look like that?" She looked mystified as she lifted Merlin's hand up and down and inspected her with curious eyes. He yanked his hand away from her, rubbing his wrist with his other hand, the one that Rowena had let go of to eye this new woman. The other children had lost interest in the stall at the knowledge that there was someone from Camelot who knew their Mistress.

"I have my reasons." Merlin tried to look imposing, harder to do when he was trying his hardest to not be embarrassed in his state.

"You can't be serious. What reasons? Oh, I'm sorry, have you discovered the wonders of a woman's body? I guess you like women _a lot_." Merlin's ears flamed red.

"Lianora!" He hissed, mortified.

"Well, not that I would blame you, you certainly do seem, _gifted,_ aside from your regular gifts." Lianora unabashedly hooked a finger in Merlin's dress, peering down the bodice of his dress with admiration. "Will you _please_ stop that?" Merlin smacked her hand away, and Lianora rubbed the smarting skin with a hand, unapologetic. _So much for remaining inconspicuous._

"Well, you're certainly not in that body of your own will, I can see tha - " Her eyes widened and filled with mirth as she realized why Merlin was still a woman. "My Lords. You're stuck!" She laughed, the sound high and pitched. Merlin winced and dragged her down the street, ignoring the looks they were getting as they made their way to an empty alley, the children crowded in after them. Once out of sight, Merlin reached over and pinched her hard. It worked, Lianora jumped, massaging the attacked upper arm and glaring at him.

"Ouch! You pinched me!"

"Because you were behaving like a crazed fool!"

"Oi don't call me names! What, did you lose your brain in the transformation or something?"

"Oh be quiet Lianora."

"Hmpf. And here I was, about to offer you a free meal at my tavern." She crossed her arms, and turned away from him, the very picture of affront. Merlin sighed, and then caught sight of the children, practically drooling at the mention of food.

He knew it had been a _bad_ idea to come to Camelot. He was definitely going to regret this.

"Oh alright. Let's go then."

Lianora jumped in excitement, her previous grievance forgotten, grabbing his hand and shaking it between two of hers.

"Oh this is going to be fantastic!"

 _What a nightmare._


	12. A Woman

And I'm back again.  
Chapter 12 is here. Not much happened plot wise, but I'm just setting the stage here, so to speak.  
Do tell me what you think !

Chapter 12: A Woman

Two arms were not enough, Merlin thought, as he tried to cover all the children's eyes simultaneously.

"Lianora! You didn't tell me your tavern was this kind of place!" He growled irately at the woman in front of him. She shrugged, mischievousness glittering in her eyes, a tray of ale tankards balanced on one hand.

"I said I was offering you a free meal. I didn't say it was going to be a wholesome one." She winked at Merlin who grimaced at the badly worded pun.

"You are incorrigible." He turned all the children towards him and gave them each a stern look. Behind them, drunk men called borderline obscene comments at waiters and waitresses alike as they passed, serving food and drinks. "You are not to look behind you, under any circumstances. I wasn't aware it was like this or I would have insisted we go somewhere else." He leveled an aggravated look at the boisterous woman calling out orders to her fellow waiters.

"Oh come on. As if you and your boys haven't frequented such taverns before?" Lianora raised an eyebrow and Merlin flushed at the memory of Gwaine dragging him to one such establishment on his 19th birthday. He could practically feel the tips of his ears burning in embarrassment.

"Still not the kind of place I would suggest to a person with children."

"Oh don't be such a ninny. This is the real world and the sooner that they see it for what it is, the better." She waved her hands dismissively and sat down at the table with them, having distributed the drinks. The red head clasped her hands and put her elbows on the table, leaning forward eagerly.

"So, tell me." When Merlin didn't answer, she raised an eyebrow expectantly, "well? You don't seriously believe that I'm going to just give this up do you? I haven't seen anything this exciting since Sir Gwaine managed to drink an entire barrel full of ale, only to vomit it on to the King himself." It was Merlin's turn to gape at her.

"Gwaine? Are you telling me the King's knights come here often?" Lianora seemed slightly concerned at the urgency in his voice, but nodded in affirmation.

"They do, although," she turned and craned her head, glancing around the tavern. Then she shook her head at Merlin.

"They aren't here right now. At least, Sir Gwaine's table is currently empty, but that could be because he usually doesn't show up until mid -afternoon." His shoulder's sagged in relief, resting his head in his hands. Merlin remembered with fondness, the many many times he'd had to go drag a piss-drunk Gwaine from the premises. He spared a glance towards the kids, who were eating happily from the plates that Lianora had put in front of them.

"You don't want to run into the Knights." Lianora noted, observing the way Merlin's eyes flickered at the mention of them. "Why?"

"I have my reasons." Her eyes brightened at that, intrigued by the non-answer. Merlin suspected it was this curiosity that had landed her in the company of the slave traders all those years ago.

"Ooh. Did you do something? Are you a criminal?" Merlin groaned, seeing the way Salazar's ears perked up at that.

"I'm nothing of the sort, thank you kindly. I just...wish to avoid complications." Lianora suddenly seemed to remember that he possessed magic and she hunched forward, no doubt to appear more secretive.

"Oh save the posh talk for someone who cares, the bigger question is are they -?" she jerked her head toward Godric, Salazar, Helga and Rowena. They stared back at her miffed at the thought of being discussed as though they weren't there.

"They are." He affirmed. Lianora squealed in delight and quickly cut off, as Merlin stomped on her foot when heads turned curiously in their direction.

"OUCH! You know, for a man, you sure are stompy. I've only ever seen wenches pull that move." She grumbled massaging her feet. "What's wrong with you anyway? If you were so desperate not to be seen here, then why did you come?"

Merlin shot a look at the kids and Lianora understood immediately.

"Ah. They canoodled you into it, did they? Well, if you keep your wits about you, it's quite possible that you can spend today without seeing anyone of them. I mean, how long do you plan to stay?" Merlin thought for a moment, he couldn't stay away unannounced from Carhaix longer than a day. But since he could apparate, they were safe to leave by sometime after nightfall.

"Probably no longer than sundown tonight." Merlin knew that now that he was here, there was one thing he had to do before leaving or he may not get another chance.

"Lianora," Something in his tone made Lianora focus on him a little more seriously." If I asked you to, could you arrange a meeting for me?" The ginger haired woman nodded.

"Sure. Depends on whom you're asking to see though. Obviously I can't go getting you an audience with King but anyone else I can probably do."

"It's his physician actually. Gaius." Lianora nodded again.

"Oh yes. I know him. When I opened my tavern here, he came once to get Sir Gwaine. But, " Lianora bit her lip, as if debating whether or not to say it.

"What?"

"Huh?"

"You want to ask me something. Go ahead."

Her eyes wavered a moment, and then she let out a little laugh.

"It's just, well, who shall I say wants to see him? That night, you never gave me your name."

Merlin reached out and squeezed her shoulder.

"I'm sorry I didn't but at the time, I couldn't afford to tell anyone who I was. My name, " he lowered his voice enough that Lianora had to strain to hear the words. "Merlin, but what you will tell Gaius, is that an old friend wants to see him, and he's staying here." Merlin rummaged through his pockets and handed Lianora a handkerchief, one that Gaius had given him, a cloth of blue and red. "Hand him this and he should understand." Lianora pocketed the item and sat back.

"Alright. I'll go now then. But what will you do then, in the meantime? I have a room in which you can meet him, but what of -" She gestured to the kids, and Merlin had to honestly pause for consideration. There was so much he needed to say to Gaius, he wanted to introduce the children as well, but how would he... then he had a flash of insight.

"Your sister has children, does she not?" Lianora motioned to a group of youth sat in the back room of the tavern. They seemed to be sitting in the back sorting herbs and packing meats for curing.

"That's them. Della, she's the blonde, Earna, that's her tossing the venison like a brute, honestly that child. And over in the corner, the moron that's trying to drop a mouse on Della's head, is the eldest, Rowley." She shook her head.

"Why people have children I'll never understand. Horrid trolls, all of them. I can't believe Ma even put up with us. I know I was an absolute nightmare." Merlin saw, despite her merrymaking, the small flash of envy in her face.

"You're not married then?" Her expression turned back into the one of mischievousness that Merlin was beginning to think was her default and nudged him in the shoulder with her own.

"Why? Are you interested?" Merlin feigned an expression of horror.

"God's no. I think we'd throw each other off a cliff before the nightfall of the first day." He turned serious again. " But honestly, why aren't you? You're attractive, and you possess a keener mind than I've seen in most people." Lianora gave him a sort of self – deprecating look, as if to say, can't you see?

"That's just it see? Here, the menfolk don't want a woman that speaks her mind. They want a trophy piece, a lady that can slop food on the table and do well in the services she ought to provide her husband." She wrinkled her nose in disgust, a clear indicator of what she thought of that concept. Merlin wholeheartedly agreed, the last 7 years, spent unwillingly as a woman had taught him much about the life they led. The honest to god rubbish they dealt with from men even from other women was incredible. Lianora shrugged her shoulders.

"Besides, what kind of a man would be willing to marry a woman who runs a tavern?" She looked wistfully off into space, her eyes showing Merlin that she had gone to another place in her mind.

"There was a man. Once. I thought I might've had a life with him. But I guess the Lord's had more need of him in the afterlife than I did here." She came back to herself suddenly, and Merlin could literally the curtains slam shut over Lianora's eyes, cloaking the vulnerable side of to the world. She stood up abruptly, stretching her arms overhead, a vulgar gesture for a woman to be making if the looks she was receiving from people was anything to go over. Lianora ignored It.

"Well then. I'll be off to find this physician of yours for you. See that room upstairs? On the right side? Yeah just wait there, and I'll get the kids to meet. You just sit tight there."

With that, Lianora grabbed Godric, Salazar, Helga and Rowena, and with an enthusiasm that was in all honesty a little frightening, she carted them off to meet her sister's kids.

. . . . . . . .

"Oh for god's sakes!" Gaius sat down heavily as a vial of rosemary extract shattered on the floor from an errant move of his hand. His grey hair mussed messily on his head, and his head pounding, Gaius found himself sorely missing the young boy that had been an integral part of his life for the better part of the 5 years. He hadn't thought it, but when Merlin had turned up, 12 years ago with nothing but the bags on his back and a note from his mother, he'd gained the son he'd never been able to have.

It had been with a heavy heart that he'd listened to Lancelot's hushed recounting of what had transpired that fateful day in the courtyard. Lancelot had come to tell him in advance so that Gaius would be able to conceal the books of magic that he had loaned the young warlock. So when the King arrived, a veritable human blaze of anger, he'd found nothing in Merlin's personal possessions to confiscate.

He'd then rounded on Gaius. It wasn't a look he was soon to forget either, despite 7 years having transpired since that particular event. The cold fury that had sat in the forefront of Arthur's gaze was terrifying and almost a mirror image of Uther's, all those years ago, when the death of Ygraine had started the Purge. The physician had been wary of the new King, worried that perhaps he'd read the youth wrong and that he would be destined to follow in his father's footsteps with the same anger that head to the deaths of hundreds and still continued to this day, beyond his demise.

"You knew didn't you? Tell me!" At Gaius's hesitation, Arthur did something he'd never done before. He crowded in so close to the physician that Gaius had had to take an incredulous step back. Maybe Arthur had seen the surprise in Gaius's eyes but it was like he'd been slapped. He quickly looked contrite, like he was horrified to be raising his voice at the man who had been present at his own birth.

"Please Gaius. I have to know."

"I did, sire." Arthur closed his eyes, another confirmation of Merlin's corruption.

"Why?" He whispered. So quietly in fact, that Gaius didn't hear him the first time.

"Sire?"

"Why didn't you tell me Gaius?" His blue eyes snapped open, and now they held accusation in them, swimming amongst the unshed tears of other emotions that Gaius hadn't the heart to identify.

"We could have saved him." Silence encompassed them for a moment as Arthur looked wildly around the room and then covered his eyes with one hand, head down.

"If you had told me, maybe Merlin wouldn't have -" The words caught in the young King's throat, thick with emotion and he looked up once, at Gaius, who was thunderstruck at the display. Then he turned curtly and strode out of the physician's chambers, the clanking of his armor audible until a loud bang sounded, signaling the slamming shut of the gate at the end of the corridor.

It had been a trying few weeks after that. Arthur had gone into something like a stunned depression. It manifested in a stony silence that seemed to lie over the castle like a freezing blanket. Gwenivere had tried to talk to him about Merlin and all that had resulted from that was a row that echoed throughout the corridors and hallways.

Arthur put his foot down. No one was to mention Merlin in front of him. At all, ever. Once things had died down, Gaius knew that things would change, and the last thing they needed was Hunith coming to the castle because she suspected something was wrong. So Gaius took out Merlin's pay from his own and sent them monthly down to Ealdor. He had to do it, knowing that the last place the boy would go, would be his home village.

He got up again, and sighed, reaching for the broom and sweeping the shattered glass into a corner and watched the clear liquid seep into the floor beneath the wood. A clatter behind him, made him turn around to see a young woman staring at him. Her hair, shocking red, surrounded her oval face like a ring of fire and she looked at him, smoothing her fingers over the pockets in her dress.

"Can I help you young lady?" Gaius asked mildly, resting the broom against the wall.

"I'm uh, I'm Lianora. From the tavern in the upper town?" She looked doubtful that he would know who she was.

"Ah yes." He shook an amused finger in her direction as he sat back down in a chair. His back had begun to give him trouble of late, making it difficult to remain standing for longer periods of time. "The Terry Tavern. A favorite of the Knights I believe. Now what can I do for you."

She shuffled forward, unconsciously hunched over like she was trying to seem inconspicuous.

"There's a guest at my tavern that would like to meet you." Gaius shook his head before she had finished her sentence.

"I'm sorry, but I don't do house calls anymore I'm afraid." He rubbed his aching hip and smiled apologetically. That was when Lianora pulled the handkerchief out of her pocket and held it out to him.

"Here. I was told you would know who it was if you saw this. I can't tell you their name."

Gaius snatched it out of her hands, clutching the small square of fabric. He looked up at her, and Lianora found she had tears in her eyes, mirroring the ones in Gaius's.

"Truly?"

She nodded and Gaius wiped his eyes, and got up. Tottering around, unsteady on his feet as he grabbed a small satchel and filled it with the fruit that sat on his table and a couple books off of his shelf. Then he turned, and holding the bag to his chest.

"Take me to him." Lianora walked out and Gaius walked out behind her, a spring in his step that had been absent in recent times.

. . . . . .

Gwenievere blew out the candle in her bedroom, the one she had been using to heat a bun. As she put it in her mouth, she noticed Gaius's figure, a small miniature of light grey, and with a woman, tall and voluptous.

A pair of hands came to rest on her hips and Gwenivere turned her head slightly, pecking Arthur on the cheek before he rested his forehead on her shoulder.

"Hello you."

"Hey to you as well. What are you looking at?" Gwenivere knocked her head into his slightly, Arthur returning the affectionate gesture.

"Gaius. He's leaving the castle with his physician's bag. I haven't seen him do that in ages. Where do you suppose he's going?" Arthur shrugged against her back, uninterested.

"Maybe he has a patient, one that needs him?"

"Yeah but, he gets even the urgent cases brought to him. So what's making him leave here on his own?"

. . . . . .

Merlin felt everything in him rattling with anxiety as he paced in the room that Lianora had pointed to him to. The room was bare except for a bed and a table on which was a lone candelabra. There was a window opposite him, through which sunlight shone reassuringly through.

Below him, he could hear the sounds of Godric and Salazar laughing as Rowley told a joke that had the girls shrieking in indignancy. Perhaps that was the reason why he was taken by surprise when the door to the room swung open, the hinges squealing in protest at the movement.

"Merlin!"

And suddenly his vision was all gray as he was being squeezed and he managed to gasp out in exasperation.

"Gaius! Can't breathe!"

Suddenly the pressure eased off, and Merlin could finally see him. Older and graying more than he had been before, but it was still him. It was still Gaius.

And with the way the physician looked at him, it was almost enough to convince himself that nothing had changed.

"Why in God's name are you a woman?"

Well. Almost nothing.


	13. Why is it Always Me?

CHAPTER 13 AYYYYYYYY.  
And part two of the saga begins with the next chapter. i hope you liked this chapter, if you did please leave me a comment to tell me how you felt or how you think I could improve or even ideas. For example, there was a comment about Excalibur that made me think long and hard about certain plot points. Keep them coming and as always thank you so much for the interest you guys have shown in my story!  
The next chapter should be out by Saturday or Sunday so check back then!

Happy Reading!

 **Chapter 13:** **Why is it Always Me?**

Gaius couldn't even fathom sight that he was seeing. He hadn't realized that the form standing in the room with Merlin's posture was in fact, a woman. A very feminine one at that. At least at first glance. A closer look revealed that the woman's hair was rather unruly, evident by the way she kept shoving it over her shoulder only to have it flop back over on the other side. Conversely there were her eyes, very blue and _very_ alert. If Gaius hadn't known better, he would have said he was looking at Merlin's sister.

"Why in God's name are you a woman?" The woman in front of him grimaced and mumbled something about a spell, twirling her hand into her hair, while the other plucked nervously at her sleeve.

"What?" He cupped a hand around his ear, creating a shell, and leaned forward while bracing a hand on the bedpost on the bed in the room. "Speak up boy, I'm old and deaf, I can't very well hear you when you're talking into your own hair." In true Merlin fashion, the woman half laughed and spoke louder.

"I may have run into a _slight_ problem with a disguise." Merlin avoided using words that could tip a listener off to the forbidden nature of the conversation. Gaius shook his head as he surveyed Merlin properly. Just as tall as the boy had been and very shapely, Gaius wouldn't have been surprised if Merlin told him that he'd had trouble with suitors.

"You did something incorrectly and got stuck didn't you?" Merlin shook his head, the tips of his ears turning a suspicious red.

"I am not. I'm just comfortable with this disguise. I can take it off whenever I want."

 _Except that you can't and every attempt to do so has resulted in ...complications._ Merlin's mind helpfully sabotaged his attempt to console himself as it flashed back to the first time he'd tried to change himself after Kilgraah's teasing hint over how to remove the incantation. He had waited until the children had been tucked into bed, and then sat in the chair next to the hearth and closed his eyes.

 _I am Merlin, I am a son. I am a father._ _ **Cierran!**_

When he opened his eyes, it was one eye at a time and he stared straight ahead, almost too scared to check if he had succeeded. A slight swish of his head confirmed that he was still a woman, the long raven locks spilling down his back. He sighed, letting his drop forward in defeat. It was then that he saw it, and for a moment, he was almost too stupefied to realize what it was.

 _It_ being the fact that in the deep necked maroon gown that he was wearing, his open collarbone area was no longer the porcelain expanse it had been seconds before. Now it was a forest of thick black hair.

Merlin had _chest hair._

Now, any other time, he would have been thrilled. But here? Now? As a bloody woman, this was the _last_ thing he needed. It was clear that forcing himself to change was only going to make things worse, if the forest on his pectorals was anything to go by. Merlin calmed himself and found a way, in the silence of his mind, to will away the unwanted body hair. If only the problem with this transformation was as easily dealt with.

Forcing himself back to the discussion at hand, Merlin veered the conversation around the very obvious fact that he was a woman and on to more interesting topics.

"Are – I mean, how are you? I'm sorry. I never got to say goodbye." Merlin saw the energy almost leech out of the older man at the reminder of their circumstances and why they were having this rather bizarre talk in the Terry Tavern. Gaius sat heavily on the bed, the frame creaking slightly at the weight. Merlin pulled out the chair in the desk on the other wall of the room and sat facing opposite him.

"Well. I never expected you to be able to. Lancelot came to me immediately, he told me everything that happened." He gave Merlin a sympathetic look.

"Oh, if only you hadn't done it Merlin. If only. Then you wouldn't be sitting in front of me right, a wanted criminal in the King's eyes. How is he going to trust Emrys now? How will you bring about the birth of Albion if you can never see Arthur again without the threat of him skewering you with his sword?"

Merlin had often wondered this, lying in his bed late at night. Those nights when he couldn't handle what had become of him. How he'd had to shoulder the burden of four children, so encumbered themselves by the weight of what their very existence meant. How many nights had he had to console them through their nightmares. Hellish dreams that left them sweaty and begging for absolvence from the guilt of being the cause of their guardian's death.

He knew, despite his misgivings, that he wasn't ever going to be able to think to himself that things had been better the way they were. And it was this that he was going to say now.

"No Gaius. I don't think it would have changed anything. Arthur would still hate and fear magic. And isn't that the very thing that Albion is supposed to represent? Freedom? If Arthur can't accept magic now, he won't accept it ever. And Emrys or no Emrys, Albion will never rise. Without being able to open his eyes, my standing next to him means absolutely nothing. " Merlin laced his fingers together and rested his chin on it, bracing his elbows on his knees. Gaius had a contemplative look on his face, his left thumb absentmindedly rubbing circles on his other hand. It was a habit of his when he was particularly deep in thought.

"So you say, but with your magic exposed, you are no closer than you were before. Besides, we're forgetting the fact that Arthur did say he would kill you if he saw you again." Merlin closed his eyes.

"Yes, thank you for reminding me Gaius. I _know,_ but you also know me better than that. Since when have I ever listened to that fool? He wouldn't be alive right now, if I wasn't hauling his arse out of trouble every two days." He shook his head, and Gaius could see that Merlin wouldn't be convinced otherwise.

"Listen, it's been difficult, but Arthur will come around. I can't expect him to accept something he doesn't understand but that doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying. Magic took his mother from him and his Father too, for that matter. If Arthur's going to accept Magic, he's going to have to learn to see it as a gift, a tool, like sword wielding for knights, like farming for farmers, and a needle for a seamstress. Once he makes the distinction, it'll be easier. I just... have to get him there. Somehow."

The statement sounded flimsier out loud than it had in his head, Merlin winced as Gaius said nothing, just raised an eyebrow in that way of his, the one that made him feel like he'd done something stupid. In the end, Gaius just reached out a hand and clasped it on his shoulder, noting how much thinner it felt than Merlin's broad shoulders.

"For all our sakes, I hope you're right Merlin."

"Shhh!"

"What on earth are you flapping your arms about for? You look preposterous."

"You can't just call me Merlin! Not here! It isn't exactly a common name, is it?"

There was a pause. Gaius couldn't argue with that logic.

"Alright. Well. I'm assuming you've been using a different name in that get up. What _have_ you been doing all these years?"

Merlin thought for a moment, before opening the door to the room they were in, looking both ways, until he spotted Lianora coming out of a room two doors down. He flagged her down, watching her walk towards him, hands full of sheets. He made an apologetic gesture.

"Sorry. But do you think you can get that lot to come up here for a moment? We don't have much time. It'll be sundown in a couple of hours, and I want them to meet him." Lianora nodded, peeking into the room before tucking the sheets under one arm and descending the stairs with a purposeful air to her.

Merlin walked back into the room, facing Gaius's quizzical look.

"I met some...people. When I left Camelot.I turned into this." He gestured to himself. "I decided if I was going to be stuck in this body, I needed a new name. So I decided to call myself Elladora. It's actually mum's aunt's name. Anyway, I ended up meeting some people, like I said before. If I think about it, they're the reason I was able to live away from Camelot for so long. Well, without losing my mind."

"Oh?" From Gaius's tone, Merlin knew that he was thinking that Merlin had fallen in love. But he couldn't have been more wrong. Or more right.

"Gaius." There was a knock on the closed door and when Merlin opened it, Rowena, Salazar, Helga and Godric walked in, babbling excitedly about Lianora's nieces and nephews. The chatter died down though, when they caught sight of the wizening old man perched on the bed opposite their mistress. Merlin got up and stood behind them. Quietly ushering them towards Gaius, hands on the shoulder's of Salazar and Godric.

"Alright you lot. This is the man I told you about. He's the one that taught me most of what I know."

"Most?" Gaius quirked an eyebrow.

"Alright, all. Have it your way. Gaius, these are my children." Merlin didn't miss the way Gaius's eyebrows shot up so high, they almost disappeared into his hair. "Godric, Rowena, Helga, and Salazar. Children, say your greetings, where are your manners?"

Godric went forward and almost hesitantly bowed, visibly relieved when Gaius extended a handshake, knowing that he didn't have to do anymore bowing. Salazar then, of course, decided to forgo the bow entirely and opted to just shake Gaius's hand, a motion which earned him a light cuff on the ear from Merlin. The girls just politely went up to him and said hello, allowing Gaius to pat them on the head.

"Your children?" Merlin nodded. Then he noticed Gaius's eyes trailing his eyes up and down Merlin's figure.

"Surely you didn't...?" He trailed off, but Merlin didn't need to hear the rest of it to know what Gaius was getting at.

"No!" Unwillingly, he flushed at the insinuation. Then he noticed Rowena watching him interestedly and cleared his throat.

"No. I didn't. I met them in a village, they were alone, being run out of the village for being sorcerers. So I took them in. We've become family. They're _my_ family." Merlin was still surprised sometimes, by the rush of emotion he felt when he looked at the children. These four, who should have been strangers to him, were now as dear to him as his own mother.

"I see." Gaius coughed in the back of his throat before beckoning Godric forward. Godric approached obediently and waited while Gaius searched his face, looking for visual habits that would belie his nature.

"Hm. This one is a rather angry fellow, isn't he?" Merlin felt a ripple of movement in Godric's energy and for the moment it made him wary. But then he remembered that this was Godric. He would sooner die than put his family in danger and he _knew_ how dangerous it would be if someone caught them practicing sorcery.

So Godric held it in, and as he stared defiantly back at the old man, and whatever Gaius saw, he must have been satisfied because the old physician made a 'hm' noise in the back of his throat and nodded.

"Godric. It's a good name."

And so it went. For some time, Gaius talked to the children. They were wary at first, unsure of what to make of the old man with the unnerving gaze. But in due course, Gaius charmed them all, complimenting Rowena's cleverness, Godric's conviction, Helga's calm nature and Salazar's wit. Soon, Merlin found himself watching, what felt like a grandfather meeting his grandchildren for the first time.

When Merlin looked up next, he was astonished to realize that without his knowledge, the sun had set, and that it was time to return to Carhaix. Regretfully, he stood, stretching his limbs, the movement causing Gaius to look up at him in the midst of explaining a particular Camelot legend to the enthralled audience he had.

"What is it?" Merlin smiled ruefully.

"It's time I left, the longer I stay, the more dangerous it is for me." Gaius looked confused.

"Why? You are no longer.." He glanced towards the door surreptitiously, and continued. "...Merlin, so you have no reason to fear Arthur or the Knights here." Merlin snorted.

"I wish that were true. I might've run into Arthur once, after running away, in this state." Merlin admitted to the older man, trying not to think about what a fiasco that had been. Gaius sighed.

"I should've known. You did something foolish and told him you have magic didn't you?" Merlin shrugged sheepishly, remembering Rowena and the flower.

"Something like that." Gaius got up, his bones cracking ominously, and he groaned, holding his hips.

"Alright. Fair enough. I'm not sticking around for Arthur to run you through though. I'll leave," Gaius gasped as he straightened out, his knees wobbling a little. "Now, and ten minutes after, you leave as well. Don't leave through the back, you'll only draw attention that way. Just exit the tavern normally, 2 at a time. Get the young lady who brought me here to accompany you out. Ouch." Gaius now stood straight, grimacing in pain. At Merlin's concerned expression, he waved a dismissive hand.

"Oh it's nothing. You may not age Merlin, so you won't have to experience this, but growing old means you curl in on yourself like a worm until it becomes difficult after a while to unravel. It's tedious and just something we aging men have to deal with." Gaius smiled in an effort to assuage Merlin's expression. It didn't work.

Merlin stretched his arms, and knelt down at waist level to Gaius, pushing the children behind him to get a proper look at Gaius's hip.

"Maybe. But that doesn't mean I can't fix it." Before Gaius could say anything, Merlin touched Gaius's hop bone with his palm and let his eyes flash briefly gold. A warmth spread through the skin and suddenly, the ache in his back was gone. Gaius stretched experimentally and to his disbelief, his legs moved without protest. He looked at Merlin in wonder.

"Well. I never."

. . . . . .

As he descended the stairs, Merlin didn't notice anything particularly was remiss until he was halfway down the steps, happening to glance up towards the doors of the tavern and saw Lianora shaking her head minutely, her eyes wide and flicking somewhere off to Merlin's right. He angled his head slightly and nearly had his heart jump out of his chest as he saw Gwaine sitting in a table at the back, near the ale barrels, with Percival.

Merlin froze, unsure of what to do. He couldn't exactly go back upstairs, that would only call attention up to himself. The only way out was past that table, but to do so, Merlin would have to be entirely inconspicuous. He slowly reached behind him and pulled hood up on his cloak, shielding his face from view and inched the rest of the way down.

Now that he knew the two were there, he couldn't help but find that his ears automatically focused on their conversation. It seemed Gwaine was already drunk and Percival was quickly working himself up to being equally as inebriated.

"Gwaine. You can't keep doing this. It's been 7 years, maybe we have to accept that he isn't coming back." Gwaine lifted his tankard up to his lips and tilted his head back, his Adams apple bobbing up and down as the drink made its way down his throat. He slammed the vessel back down with a thunk and a bar maid came forward instantly to top him right back up. He propped his lolling head up with a hand curled into a fist, bracing it against his temple, a grimace stretching his lips thin.

"7 years. 7 Perce. He hasn't shown even a hair of himself in 7 years. We've been all over this damned Kingdom, you'd think we'd have seen him once, or even heard of him. He could be dead for all we know!"

 _Not quite._ Merlin thought as he hit the last step and walked out onto the main floor. Gwaine was as he had last seen him. Long black hair that swept across his face, and the dark brown eyes that were now glazed over with drink. His face, once so thin, had filled out some, with living in the castle and having access to ample food. Gwaine, the last time Merlin had seen him, was more of a boy, but the person he saw sitting at the table, sword on the table, cloak flung on to the bench next to him, was a man. A very drunk man, but a man nonetheless.

Merlin flinched as Gwaine let out a loud belch and thumped his chest. Percival took a chug of his ale, and wiped the residue off of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"That's my point Gwaine. We have no idea, where he is. He's as much my friend, as he is yours, but maybe we should give up on trying to find him behind Arthur's back." Merlin nearly stopped walking but managed to force himself to keep going. _They_ _had been looking for him?_

"I know Elladora said she'd seen him, isn't that enough. Remember, Merlin's only wish when he met you was to support him, to make him the King that he Arthur was meant to be."

Gwaine rolled his eyes at that, finding a moment of clarity despite his drunkenness.

"Oh sure. Everything is about Princess. Listen, I know what Merlin wanted from us, but what about what he _needed?_ Do you realize he must have spent his whole life hiding? All those moments when something miraculous happened, when a branch would fall on people trying to attack us, convenient boulders, they were all him." Percival stayed silent as Gwaine worked himself into a frenzy. Merlin was almost directly in front of their table and _praying_ to just slide by without incident. He didn't want to listen to this anymore. It brought forth emotions that he just wasn't willing to face.

"And when Arthur had a sword to his back, I just stood there." Gwaine said this quietly, and as he did, his shoulders slumped, the guilt written all over his face. Percival put a hand on Gwaine's back.

"I don't think he expected us to do anything, Gwaine. We're his Knight's. If we interfered with the King's decisions, where does that leave us? What would be the point of anything we did?"

"I know. I know. I just -" Gwaine took the pitcher from the barmaid and drank straight from it. "I just wish I had at least _said_ something. Anything. Just so Merlin knew that nothing had changed for me. He was still Merlin. He was still my best friend. No matter what he was."

Merlin pulled the cloak tighter around him and ignored what Gwaine's words were doing to his mind. He managed to exit the tavern in a rush, breathless as he breathed the night air. It was sky was starry, smelling of wildlife and the beginnings of a rainy night, with clouds approaching. Lianora stood with the kids in an alley next to the tavern, filling their bags with trinkets and food, pulling it out of a makeshift bag she made from the apron on the front of her dress. She looked up, sympathy etched in her expression as he approached. She said nothing as she handed him his portion of bread and cheese. Merlin was sure that his own face was unnerved but he chose to ignore it. If anything, Lianora had shown him that he could trust her.

"Take care of them, will you?" The underlying gratitude didn't have to expressed, as Lianora tilted her head in agreement, already understanding the implications of Merlin's unspoken request.

"Of course. I'm glad I got to see you again, you know." She came closer to him and pulled him into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She pulled his head down so it rested on her shoulder, making him close enough to whisper in his ear.

"I was never able to thank you for what you did for us that night. You could have escaped alone, but you took me with you and you used your magic to protect me. For that I'll be always grateful. I owe my life to you." She pulled back and cupped his face in her hands, a fierce look in her eyes.

"You remember my words, Merlin. Anything you need, _ever_ , you can come to me." Merlin smiled, nudged her with his shoulder.

"Careful Lianora, I might start to think you're falling for me." Lianora whacked him on the arm.

"In your dreams elephant ears."

. . . . . . .

Merlin and his children carefully walked down the street outside the main gates of Camelot. Merlin could see that the day had taken its toll on them. He chuckled quietly to himself as they walked, Helga's eyes were starting to close, no matter how hard she tried to keep them open as they walked.

"It's only until we get around the bend guys. Then we'll duck into the forest and apparate. We'll be home in no time."

Once they got around the bend, Merlin held up the low lying tree branches so the taller kids could duck easily under them into the thick forest. As they walked further in, Merlin looked for a small clearing that would allow them room enough to comfortably apparate back to Carhaix. After 5 minutes of walking they happened across a small patch in the forest, one that was large enough for them to stand in a small circle.

After a moment or two of rearranging themselves, Merlin took a deep breath, holding his arms out for Helga and Salazar to hold. Just as he was about to apparate them away, Merlin heard something that sounded suspiciously like a shriek. It was small and not very loud but it was definitely man made. He cracked an eye open and saw that the others had heard it too.

"You heard that right?" They nodded vigorously. Merlin let go of their hands and put a finger to his lips, cocking his head to one side. Then he heard it again, coming through the trees to his left, this time accompanied by the sound of branches snapping. He pushed through the trees carefully, and after a few seconds, he spied the source of the sounds through a gap in the thick forest brush.

Merlin saw a woman on the forest floor, stomach down, half twisted around to look at the men behind her. As Merlin noiselessly worked his way forward, he motioned for Godric to come up around next to him. Even as he did so, Merlin realized just who the woman on the floor was. Her figure and curly black hair gave her away to him instantly.

It was the Queen, Gwenievere, lying there, her manner frightened but desperately trying not to appear so. In the hands of the men behind her, Merlin saw the necklace that Arthur had given her a day before the coronation, a symbol of his affection to his wife.

He gave Godric the all-clear to use a newly mastered skill of his. With a wave of his fingers, the bushes behind the men rattled with clear force, the rustling growing louder and punctuated with growls.

They observed the men, a rag-tag assortment of tavern thugs, the type to thieve from the drunk and definitely not used to a physical confrontation, go white at the sounds. They tried to stand their ground for a while, glancing nervously at each other as the noises grew louder. It was then that Merlin stepped out in front of them, hands on her hips.

"What on earth are you doing?"

Three heads turned in her direction, with Gwen shaking her head rapidly, trying to tell Merlin not to get involved. Though the men were clearly rattled, they tried to appear intimidating.

"None o' your business lady. Get lost."

Then Godric threw in a high pitched snarl into the mix, and they jumped, squeaking like children, dropping the necklace in their haste to flee, crashing through the trees right past Merlin, Rowena, Helga and Salazar.

After waiting a short time to make sure they were truly gone, Merlin turned around to see Gwenivere hoisting herself up off the ground. She flashed Merlin a sheepish smile.

"Thank you -"

"What are you thinking? Coming out this late at night with no escort?" Merlin interrupted abruptly, hands crossed over his chest. Gwenivere seemed confused with Merlin's attitude, until he spoke again.

"You're the Queen, you can't just wander about at all hours by yourself. Does Arthur know you aren't in the castle?"

A look of understanding dawned on her face and she looked more contrite, the expression to when Merlin had scolded Helga for magicking Salazar with a pig's tail.

"I – I just needed some air. I didn't think – I know I shouldn't have come out." The downcast look on her face as she clasped and unclasped her fingers was enough for Merlin to uncross his shoulders and take off his own cloak, tying it around her own neck. She looked up at him, surprised, now that she had a proper look at his face. Her hair was disheveled, coming out of the pin at the crown of her head and had bits of grass and twigs in it. He brushed it tenderly out of her hair, not seeing her eyes follow the movement of his hands.

"Well, I'm sorry I raised my voice at your Highness, but you really can't walk around here on your own. There are many others who would do much worse to a pretty woman on her own outside at this hour." She nodded, still entranced by his face, only looking away when Helga, Rowena, Godric and Salazar came out of the woods quietly.

Merlin pulled the hood over her head, and grabbed her hand.

"Come, let's get you back to the Castle. The guard's should be able to get you inside without alerting Arthu – I mean, the King to the fact that you were outside alone."

. . . . . .

When they finally reached the gates, the Queen finally came back to her senses, grabbing on to his hand as he turned to go back down the road.

"Wait!" Merlin regarded her quizzically, she had his left hand in both of hers, tightly holding on. Her smile was bright.

"I can't just let you leave like this! You saved my life, I must show my gratitude somehow." Merlin shook his head at her before she was even finished.

"That's not necessary your Highness. I was just doing my duty, one woman to another." He tried unsuccessfully to pull his hands out of her vice-like grip, but she held on.

"No, no. I insist. You must come back with me to castle. I have to tell Arthur of your bravery tonight. You came to my aid, even though there were three men against you and not to mention some kind of beast in the forest."

"No really I-"

"As your _Queen_ , I am formally inviting you to come with me to Castle, at the very least you can stay the night there. It looks as if it will rain and it will not do to have a lone woman with four children traveling alone in those circumstances. I will arrange for a formal escort back to your home for you." She said decisively, and pulled on Merlin's hand again, dragging him through the gates and towards the looming castle entrance, and try as he might, there was no way Merlin could think of to get himself out this.

 _Why is it always me?_


	14. Unseeing Eyes

**A/N:** Helloooooo. Back again. Its been a while, hopefully you haven't forgotten me!

SO, in this chapter we begin with the real meat of the story. Hope you enjoy!  
As always thank you for the Kudos and comments and I would love to see more.

Happy reading!

 **Chapter 14: Unseeing Eyes**

"Gwen – _Your Highness,_ really. I'm fine. You don't have to do this." Merlin tugged ineffectually at Gwen's hand as she walked up the steps to the castle, holding her skirt up as she went. The Knight that had escorted them to the gate now hurried ahead to inform those who needed to know about the Queen's arrival and the immediate things that she would need. Merlin glanced at Godric behind him, whose eyes were as wide as saucers, taking the looming castle in. Rowena and Salazar on the other hand, were eyeing each other with a sort of apprehension, as if expecting guards to pop out from the castle waving their pitchforks and yelling "SORCERERS!" at them.

Which brought him back to the fear inducing realization that Gwen was unwittingly dragging him right back into the lion's den. It had been rattling enough just going to Camelot's lower town, but into the castle? Merlin thought he was going to pass out from anxiety.

Arthur knew who he was – kind of – and that knowledge alone was enough evidence for Arthur to sentence them all to burn. How was he going to get himself out of this one? Merlin was so deep into his own mind, searching for an out, that he failed to observe the last step and tripped.

With a fairly unwomanly yell, Merlin went down in a tangle of skirts and bags, banging his elbow on the edge of the steps as he caught himself.

"Are you alright?!" Merlin blinked his eyes open and found himself looking into the concerned faces of his children and Gwen. He clutched his twinging elbow and smiled up at them, self deprecatingly.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Nothing I haven't done before." He shook his arm out, holding the trailing end of his sleeve in the other hand so it didn't flap about.

"Gwenivere? What's going on?" Merlin noticed all the children start at the voice and instinctively reach out to grab the sleeve of his dress. There was no mistaking the voice, as deep as it was cultured. No one was about to forget the sound of this man's voice, yelling in their cabin.

Gwenivere stood up from her bent position over Merlin, and looked at the approaching King who strode quickly to her, the Knight they'd sent in earlier trotting obediently behind him bringing with him the head of Household Affairs. Merlin saw with some satisfaction that Arthur's first priority was Gwen, brushing the twigs and leaves out of her hair, and checking her for injuries.

"He said you were attacked. By who?" Arthur held her by the shoulders, searching her eyes. She patted his hand comfortingly.

"It's alright. It was my fault anyway, I got too used to thinking that you'll always come running in to rescue me. But in any case, I was rescued, by this lovely woman." Gwen gestured to Merlin who was being hauled up in a joint effort by Godric and Helga. Merlin watched as Arthur squinted at him, the backlight of the torches mounted all along the castle doors making it hard to make out initially who was standing at the castle steps.

Merlin tried to subtly push the kids behind him, to protect them from Arthur's view but this time, he found that they wouldn't allow it. They held either his hand or his sleeve, standing resolutely with him. Arthur's eyes widened as they took in the wild, unruly black hair, and the big blue eyes.

"Arthur, she saved me from those drunk brutes that tried to rob me of this." She held out the necklace, clutched in her hand and a little dirty from its tumble in the mud. Arthur barely glanced at it, his gaze fixated on Merlin.

"This is -" Gwen paused and looked at Merlin quizzically. "Oh I'm sorry. I don't believe I ever asked for your name. How unbelievably rude of me. You know me as Queen Gwenivere, you are -?" Merlin hesitated before answering.

"Elladora." He stopped before he started, as Arthur answered the question for him, his expression incredulous. "Her name is Elladora of Carhaix."

Merlin raised a sheepish hand in hello.

"Hi?" His wave was tentative, since he wasn't quite sure how Arthur was going to take his reappearance.

Gwenivere looked between them confused, as a hand slowly crept up to place her arm in the crook of Arthur's elbow.

"Arthur, do you know her?" She asked, a little unnerved by the expression her King was wearing. Like he had never expected to see this woman standing before him. Before Arthur could respond, there was a slight sound of a sword scraping stone from behind Merlin and the entirety of the company turned to look behind them.

And what they saw were two men, drunkenly stumbling towards the steps and the closer they got, the more evident it was that the men were in fact, Gwaine and Percival, inebriated to the point that standing on their own was difficult. This was of course, proven by the fact that they were walking purely by the arms they had thrown over each other's shoulders, providing enough support to enable them to slowly make their way to the castle. Their swords were in their scabbards, scratching the ground whenever they dipped too low.

The King sighed. He motioned the Knight behind him forward.

"Go get Sir Lancelot and Sir Elyan. You are going to need a _lot_ of help getting these two oafs back to their quarters." His lips unwillingly curved in a grimace that equal parts affection and exasperation. Behind it though, there was a different emotion, coloring his expressions in a unique hue.

Gwenivere patted his arm sympathetically, sending Merlin a look that told him she wanted him to understand and pardon the condition of the two men.

"Can't say I blame them. It's 7 years today." Arthur said, sighing quietly before focusing on Merlin again. Merlin tried not to show any visible signs of recognition at the sentence. Truthfully, he hadn't even been aware that today was the day, 7 years ago, when he had been run out Camelot. He usually tried not to dwell on the thought, seeing as it made him rather annoyed. But he'd long since come to terms with the fact that in the relationship between himself and Arthur, it was Arthur who held the grudge, the prejudice's and the frankly alarming high body count of sorcerers. And there wasn't anything he could do about it.

The hatred that Uther had started, Merlin had only cemented. The one chance he'd had at quelling all of Arthur's doubts had vanished when Merlin had inadvertently caused Uther's death. Granted that hadn't been his intention, but he should have not been so boneheaded and gone poking about the King's body so cavalierly. If he hadn't, perhaps Uther would still be alive. Though whether that would have been good or bad, Merlin wasn't sure.

Arthur cleared his throat, pinning Elladora with a look that had Merlin slightly on edge. What if the last 7 years had only turned him more prejudiced against sorcerers? What if the reasonable Arthur that he had hoped would prevail had been smothered under paranoia?

"So. Elladora. What brings you to Camelot?" His eyebrow raised, and Gwenivere rolled her eyes.

"Arthur, I just told you, she saved my life. I don't appreciate the interrogation!" Merlin saw Arthur bite his lip as he grabbed her upper and kind of jerked his head in Merlin's direction and whispered to Gwenivere in an aggravated tone.

" _GWENivere_. That's the woman I told you about, _remember_? The witch?" Merlin scowled. 'Witch' always sounded so insulting. As if they were calling him something hideous. He squeezed Rowena's trembling hand to reassure her and then spoke.

"Uh, hello? I was just dropping the Queen off to the Castle, since she was wandering around outside in the woods. Seeing as she's got you now, I'll be leaving thanks." Merlin made to turn and leave and barely got a footstep away before Gwenivere grabbed his arm, while simultaneously pinning Arthur with a pointed look, angling her head toward Merlin. When he looked at her confused, Merlin saw her narrow her eyes and jerk her head more demandingly in her direction.

Arthur sighed, and put his hand on his hips, hanging his head. He let out a huff and then looked up at Merlin, a tight smile on his face.

"Elladora. Ahem, _Mistress_ Elladora, it _is_ quite late. Why don't you – uh – why don't you stay here for the night? I agree with the Queen, we must show you our gratefulness. So, allow us to host you tonight."

It took everything Merlin had in him to keep a straight face with the pained look of forced gratefulness that Arthur was giving him. It was a unique cross between a smile and a grimace. Merlin realized belatedly that now it was his turn to respond to Arthur's invitation. The problem was here, he couldn't behave the way he had in Carhaix, if he refused to acknowledge Arthur for the King that he was, he would be sowing the seeds for rebellion. So he grit his teeth and grabbed his skirt and did a semi curtsey, hearing the rustling of fabric as Rowena and Helga curtsied and the boys followed suit with a clumsy bow.

Arthur made an odd coughing noise and turned around, motioning to the Head of Housekeeping to get their rooms prepared.

. . . . . . .

" _What the devil do you think you're doing?"_ Merlin barely refrained from jumping at the sound of Arthur's aggravated voice in his ears. Gwenivere was walking ahead of him and the King, making an enthusiastic attempt and engaging the kids in conversation. So far only Helga and Salazar had taken the bait. The other two were staring stonily at the walls, ignoring her.

"I don't have the slightest idea as to what you're talking about _your Highness._ " Arthur threw him an exasperated look that bordered on threatening.

"I'm being serious here Elladora. I don't have time for your mind games. _What are you doing here?_ " It took Merlin all of two seconds to decide his course of action for his current interlude with the King. It appeared that in his absence, the King had managed to revert back into his previous personality.

"You know. Before I never could understand why exactly women would get so frustrated with men but," he looked Arthur up and down and took satisfaction in his offended look. " _now,_ I'm starting to understand."

"You -!"

"We're here!" Gwenivere's cheery voice interrupted Arthur and she looked back at them, smiling and motioning Merlin to come forward. Merlin winked at the King and left him behind, speeding up his walk to reach the door to the room where they would be staying. It was in the west wing of the castle, which told him a lot about how thankful the Queen truly was. The west wing was where the King would house his most important guests. It was on the first floor of course, seeing as Merlin was nowhere near royalty and yet if Merlin were to remember the layout of the castle properly, he was directly underneath the King's chambers.

"I hope they're too your liking Mistress." Merlin gave Gwenivere a strange look and she nudged Helga affectionately.

"She told me you prefer being called that." Helga beamed at her, delighted to be talking to the Queen, seeming to momentarily forget the fact that the Queen and King were probably their biggest problems at the moment.

Rowena, Godric, Salazar and Helga ran in, inspecting the room while Merlin stood in the doorway, watching them and surveying the room. Arthur grabbed Gwenivere by the elbow and yanked her backwards, she gave Merlin an apologetic look and backed up a couple steps to talk quietly with her husband.

" _That happens to be_ _a sorcerer that you've invited to stay in our castle Gwenivere!"_ _Arthur jabbed a finger irately in his direction._

 _"She_ _ **happens**_ _to be the woman who saved my – your Queen's – life! She must be treated the same way we would treat anyone who helped us. If this was anyone else, you'd be giving them a medal of honor!"_ _She stamped her foot lightly, a small movement._

 _"But she's not anyone else is she? For all you know she could be conspiring to kill us in our sleep!"_

 _"If she had wanted us dead, she would have left you to die in Carhaix seven years ago and killed me in the woods."_

When Merlin turned around Arthur and Gwenivere straightened up, flashing him identical strained smiles. Merlin returned it, leaning on the doorway with one hand on the door itself.

"Well, thank you for this. It wasn't necessary at all but thank you anyways."

"It's the least I could do for you. If you hadn't appeared when you did, I would be in a lot of trouble right now. Please, rest, both you and your children." Gwenivere grabbed Arthur's hand, tugging him down the hallway, sending Merlin a bright smile as she rounded the corner.

Merlin closed the door softly, bracing his forehead against it. He had all of two seconds to calm his panicky mind over being forced to stay in the castle before a loud crash startled him, followed by loud hissed

" _Salazar!"_

 _"What?!_ _ **You**_ _pushed it!"_

 _"Did not!"_

 _Ah, the joys of parenthood,_ he thought ruefully.

"Oi! What did you trouble makers break back there?!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was clear after he had fixed the rooms appropriately to house all four children that he wasn't getting any sleep tonight. The moon was high in the sky, a pale milky orb that cast a white glow over the kingdom that lay asleep outside his window.

Merlin stood in the center of the room, a long oblong, oval shaped chamber with one large bed on the right side of the room and two beds on the left side of the room that were large enough for two people. Salazar and Godric on the bed next to wall closest to the wash basin and a screen that hid a tub for baths behind it. It was a room that was garbed entirely in muted golds and blues but it made Merlin feel claustrophobic for his old room at Gaius's and his other room in Carhaix, small, unassuming and uncomplicated.

That's what he'd always wanted after all. A straight and uncomplicated life with no prophecies and no dunce Kings to constantly watch over. Merlin raised both hands over his head, stretching them as much as he could, feeling the exhaustion from the day's exertion. He ran both hands through his full hair, rubbing at his skull to relieve the pressure building from the stress. Then he reached behind him to undo the corset lacing on his gown. Luckily the gowns that Eliana had given him sported a new kind of corset lacings, ones that allowed for a person to easily remove the garment, whereas before undressing had become a family affair for him, having to get _both_ Rowena and Helga to help him.

The gown slipped off of his narrow shoulders and pooled at his feet, where Merlin stepped out of it and kicked it unceremoniously to the corner of the room, forgotten almost instantly. He stood now in his cloth slip and starting to feel the tiredness creeping into his body, he crawled into the bed, only to sit on top of the blankets, back against the pillows, his knees drawn up to his chest. The bed was half covered in moonlight, streaming through the windows, only partially in the darkness As a result of the canopy over the head of the bed. He wrapped his arms around his knees as he thought.

7 years since he had last even _seen_ the castle. Walking through its hallways had been dizzying, he'd never thought seeing George as he was lead towards his rooms would fill him with such a rush of familiarity. That brought him to thinking about his rooms, he knew he was directly below Arthur's chambers and if Arthur was as he was before then it was quite possible that Arthur was only now getting into his chambers to sleep. He couldn't help but wonder if they were talking about him. After all, to his knowledge, this was the first time that a known sorcerer was being allowed to stay in the castle. He wondered what this meant for Arthur's state of mind.

He knew very well that he shouldn't but he couldn't help it. He thought back to a book of spells he'd seen in Grindle's spell book. He closed his eyes and thought to himself. _**Auscultatio.**_

 _"Arthur, enough. I said she was staying the night. That's it." There was the sound of loud stomping, which Merlin assumed were Arthur's ridiculously large feet, throwing a temper tantrum._

 _"I don't think you understand the gravity of what you've done Gwenivere. That's a known sorcerer down there. IN MY CASTLE."_

 _"Oh thank you, Arthur. I don't think I quite understood you the other_ _ **twenty**_ _times you've said that tonight in the span of the last," there was a pause, "10 minutes. Honestly. Why is it so hard for you to believe that she could genuinely not mean us any harm?"_

 _"Oh I don't know. Maybe because she practices Magic and magic is evil?"_

 _"You yourself told me that she struck you as odd when you met her! That she seemed unlike anyone you'd ever met. That she was intelligent and knowledgeable, if a little eccentric."_

 _"That was before I found out she had a whole brood of sorcerers with her and she was their leader."_

 _"Arthur, she's a young mother of 4 children. That's hardly a brood of_ _ **anything."**_ Here there was such a large silence that Merlin half thought they'd fallen asleep in the middle of the conversation before he heard Gwenivere speak quietly, her voice muffled, as if pressed to Arthur's chest.

" _Have you ever thought, that maybe she reminds you a little of Merlin?" Merlin strained his ears, listening for Arthur's response._

 _"Sometimes. She said she knew him. Maybe they're relatives."_

 _"I thought his mother was his only family."_

 _"Who knows. He spent 6 years of his life with me Gwen. He never told me he was a sorcerer. I don't know how much of what he's told me about himself was even true."_

 _"Why can't you just give him the benefit of the doubt. I'm sure he had his reasons of hiding it. The first being_ _that he didn't want to end up a roast pig."_

 _"I wouldn't have done that to him!"_

 _"How could he be sure? You never said a word against_ _it when your father burned hundreds at the stake."_

 _"I was a child, not to mention a prince. I didn't have a choice."_

 _"Did you not have your own mind either?"_

 _"Gwenivere!"_

 _"Look, I'm just saying, that maybe it's_ _time that you buried the past and just_ _ **tried**_ _to look for him. Just talk. Hear his side of the story."_

 _"Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't know the first place to look. And_ _whose to say he'd even see me."_

Merlin had heard enough. He held his face in his hands, trying to hold back the emotions that he hadn't brought up in years. They were like tidal waves, crashing against the walls of sanity that he'd built over time. He just wasn't ready for this. All he wanted to do was go home. They wanted to find him. To talk to him. What for? To humiliate him again? To accuse him of more horrendous crimes? Because Arthur would rather fight a Griffin barehanded than apologize to a sorcerer, that much he was aware. He scoffed, knowing that the Arthur he knew would never apologize unless there was sufficient cause to. So unless Merlin could get his view on Magic to change. There was not even the slightest chance that an apology was coming his way anytime soon. And that was assuming Arthur even knew or wanted to know how to find him to deliver said apology.

Merlin looked up, wiping the moisture on his cheeks away, refusing to acknowledge them as tears and got under the blankets. He wasn't in any mood to think about the foolish King. He pulled the fabric up to his chin and closed his eyes, determined to get some kind of blasted sleep.

. . . . . . . . . .

Madalen carried two empty buckets out to the well behind the Terry Tavern. It was the dead of night and her last customers had _finally_ left. She had sent her children to bed already with the help of her younger sister Lianora. Those three children of hers exhausted everyone today, after meeting the children of Lianora's friend. She chuckled to herself while rearranging her grip on the bucket handles. Rowley had been beside himself to find a friend in Godric. Her chuckle turned into a huff of annoyance when she nearly fell on the slippery ground.

It was muddy in the back, the ground uneven with the footprints of stable boys and horses that had been tethered there. She made her way to the well at the corner of the property. All she needed to do before going to bed was to fill the two buckets with well water for the chamber pots, then she could go and lie down and just sleep. She felt like she could sleep like the dead for all the work she had done.

Her foot squelched in the muck and as she pulled out she heard a rustling in the woods behind the well. She froze, her eyes searching the woods for the movement she heard. After a moment, she released the breath she was holding, chalking the noise up to the wind. She walked to the well, setting the buckets down on the ground, she heaved the lid off with a grunt, the slab of stone and wood falling wetly to the ground. As it slid off, the stones screeched against each other, the sound was augmented by another shrill sound.

This time, Madalen heard it loud and clear. The shrill squeal was loud in her ears, coming from all around her. A sudden flapping startled her as a big black crow flew out of the brush over her head, coming dangerously close to tipping her off balance. She flailed her arms but managed to regain her equilibrium, holding her arms out parallel to the ground, and straightened, breathing a sigh of relief.

 _Just a crow. Pull yourself together Madalen!_

She brushed the hair out of her face, sweaty from her momentary scare, leaning on the lip of the well. Madalen could see the reflection of the moon in the still water's surface, a beautiful painting in the night. As she admired it, Madalen became aware that all around her, everything had gone silent.

The kind of silence that was devoid of even the smallest peep. The trees didn't rustle in the wind, the crickets didn't cricket, and the sound of the horses snoring was gone. The atmosphere was so stifling that Madalen didn't dare move, even a mere tavern owner like herself could tell that this was abnormal. Her palms were sweaty and her breathing loud and labored, even to herself. She tried to calm herself, telling herself that it was nothing.

Then she heard it. It was a small, barely even discernible sound. But something was coming.

A shadow fell over her, blocking the moon and Madalen had no choice but to move. She gulped, and clenched her eyes shut. It was behind her. She quickly prayed, a small part of her telling her that it was useless, that no one was listening. She ignored it and turned fast, ready to face what it was that had come for her. Madalen was many things, a mother who birthed bastard children, an irresponsible woman, a sinner. But she was _not_ a coward. She steadied her trembling breath, seeing the way it escaped her mouth in a cloud of cold air.

She looked up and saw for the first time in her life, the face of evil.

Madalen screamed and elsewhere in Camelot, Merlin woke up, eyes unseeing.


	15. Morgana

**A/N:Read & Review please. Especially if you can guess the monster! ;)**

 **Chapter 15: Morgana  
**

 _Can't breathe! Can't breathe!_

Merlin knew he was sitting upright but he couldn't see anything, vaguely aware of his wheezing breath that came in short stuttered intakes. His mind, all a misty gray white, was filled with a shrill shrieking that reverberated through his skull.

Then the pain started. It was as if something angry was trying to tear itself into his head, clawing at its corners and gnawing at the edges. Merlin collapsed backwards onto the bed, body convulsing as the pain in his head manifested in the unwilling jerking of his extremities. Merlin felt like someone was choking him, the vice around his neck tightening like a rope. His voice was being pulled from his body, like short gasps around his breath.

He could feel the sweat beading on his upper lip but all of that was secondary to the excruciating pain that was encompassing his every nerve. An errant hand flung the clay vase that stood on the table next to the bed to the ground, shattering against the stone floor with a resounding crash.

Godric, awakened by the sound, pushed himself up blearily in bed. He looked for the source of the noise, and his gaze landed on Merlin's writhing form on the bed. Alarmed, he threw the covers off of himself, shaking Salazar in the process, trying to wake him up.

"Salazar. Salazar wake up!" He ran to the bed, where Merlin was wildly thrashing, grabbing at his throat, the nails scratching thin, pink lines on the column of his pale throat. Godric managed to get a hold of his hands, pinning them down to the bed, while Salazar woke the two girls. Rowena's hair was messy, sticking to her face, where saliva had run. Helga was still unsticking her eyes as they both stumbled to the bed behind Salazar, eyes widening as they took in Merlin's state.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know! I woke up and she was like this! Ro, Helga, grab her legs, I've got her hands. Salazar go get Uncle Gaius! I don't know _how,_ just do it!"

Salazar ran out, smacking face first into the chainmail clad guards that the King had placed outside their doors as sentries.

"Please get Gaius!" They peered into the room, seeing the three kids holding down Merlin's figure, arching up off the bed, a small shriek escaping his throat.

The guards glanced at each other and after a moments hesitation one of them went off to go find the physician.

 _Emrys._

The high pitched wailing in his skull deadened slightly as Merlin became aware of another presence on the edge of his consciousness. Soft as a whisper but somehow travelling easily through the noise.

 _Emrys, you_ _ **must**_ _stay calm._ Somehow Merlin found enough will in himself to respond, despite the pain in his head.

 _What? Talisien? Why are you talking in my head?_

 _Emrys, you must be calm._

 _Talisien, in_ _case you haven't noticed, my mind is currently a holding place for Camelot's noisiest chicken._

 _It_ _is_ _a beast_ _Emrys. A terrible, terrible creature. The likes of something that hasn't been seen since ancient times._

 _Could you maybe tell me about this when my head_ _ **isn't,**_ _you know, threatening to explode?_

 _It's here. The beast is within Camelot's walls._

 _What? Here? And you're only_ _telling_ _me this now?_

 _Emrys, my strength grows weak, you need to find this creature and destroy it, before it destroys us all. It is only the beginning of the great evil's that the dark sorceress will send Camelot's way._

Talisien's voice faded, and the shrieking started anew, stronger and this time filled with a satisfied bloodlust, but now his vision was clearing Merlin could see the bed curtains hanging above him, feel the sweat-slicked stickiness of his clothes, his brow dripping. He tried to move and realized that Godric was cradling him, his head in the boy's lap, while he kept an iron grip on his arms, to prevent him from digging anymore scratches into his neck.

"Godric." Gods, his voice was ruined. His throat felt raw and hoarse, parched and paper dry when he tried to speak. Merlin attempted swallowing to wet his mouth, to ease the speech and instantly regretted the action.

"Godric, I;m fine. You can let go now." He spoke softly, trying not to agitate his voice. Godric visibly sagged in relief, the tension seeping out of his shoulders. Merlin felt some pressure lift off of his legs and then his vision was crowded by the faces of Rowena, Salazar and Helga. They peered at him, Salazar chewing his lip nervously.

"Are you alright Mistress?"

"I expect to find out shortly." Merlin glanced to his left to find Gaius clambering onto the bed, kneeling next to Merlin and Godric, with a bag full of medicinal herbs and elixirs. Merlin tried to swat Gaius's hand away, opening his mouth to dismiss the mollycoddling, but found himself overwrought by coughs.

"What's going on?" The King strode into the room, without much preamble, taking in the group on the bed that was gathered around Merlin's prone form. Merlin managed to raise himself up to his elbows, grimacing at the tacky feel of sweat drying on his chest. He pinned Arthur with a questioning gaze in response.

"What's going on? What are _you_ doing in the room of an unmarried woman in the dead of night?" Arthur flushed indignantly at the insinuation but stood his ground. He placed his hands on his hips and Merlin took in for the first time that it seemed that the King had truly just come straight from his chambers, seeing as he was clad only in a plain white shirt over tan trousers with a red robe, hair sticking out at odd angles. Certainly not clothes a King should be wandering around in, lest he invite rumors. Though Merlin was hardly one to talk, he was certain he himself made a rather interesting sight.

"The guards told me you were ill. I came to see what was happening." Merlin leaned to the side, now for the first time seeing the two knights posted outside his door. He shook his head, he had forgotten who he was dealing with.

"I forgot. _Of course,_ you were going to post sentries at my door. In case I sung an illegal _lullaby_ or something?" Arthur took a step forward, not missing the way Godric's expression hardened and his body tensed, ready for confrontation.

"Listen, you are a _known_ sorcerer. I had to be sure you weren't here in some insane bid to destroy the kingdom." Merlin sat up fully, his expression incredulous.

"And your solution was to post guards at my door? I could have just as easily knocked them out and brought this castle to its knees. _But_ _I didn't._ When are you going to learn that not everyone is after your ridiculous pratty arse? If I had wanted you dead Arthur Pendragon, you would be."

The King sputtered, momentarily stumped, it was hard arguing with that logic.

"What was all that commotion just now about then?" Arthur finally returned, choosing not address Merlin's realized he had forgotten the initial reason for his waking up. He got up, slipping on his shoes and shoved Arthur out of the way to the door.

"M-Elladora, where are you going?" Gaius cried out, scrambling off of the bed, steadying himself by a post, Merlin stopped just short of the door.

"Outside." He made to leave, but the King stopped him by grabbing his exposed upper arm.

"Dressed like that?" For the first time, Merlin stopped to think that he was wearing just a cotton shift, After a moments consideration, he marched back towards his bed, whipped off the thin wool shawl at the foot of the bed, swung it around him, so it swathed his upper body and then turned and ran out the doors.

"Mistress!" Godric, Salazar, Helga and Rowena made to follow, but Merlin popped his head back and fixed them all with a stern look.

"The four of you will stay here. No, Godric, I'm not asking, I'm telling you. You _will_ wait for me here. I don't want his King ship here, thinking I've run off after casting some inane enchantment on Camelot."

Then he was out of sight, his footsteps receding. Gaius and Arthur stood flummoxed in the center of the room for a moment, before he threw up his hands in exasperation.

"Oh for the love of -" Then he too, stalked out of the chambers with Gaius close at his heels. The last thing Gaius saw was the scowl on Godric's face as he closed the door with a apologetic sigh, indicating that the children should go back to sleep.

. . . . .

"Where _has_ that daft sorceress gone off to?!" Arthur's annoyed yell was half whispered, still as yet unwilling to oust her status as a criminal. It would be in poor spirits to roast the woman who brought his wife back to him in one piece. He caught sight of Elladora's figure turning a corner up and took off after her. He motioned a guard as he passed by.

"Go get Percival and Leon. Tell them to meet me by the castle gates." The nameless knight nodded and trotted off to the Knight's quarters.

By the time Arthur caught up to her, Elladora was practically flying down the steps of the castle's entrance. He barely managed to grab her hand as she hit the last step before the ground.

" _Stop!_ Where are you going?!" Elladora wrenched her hand out of his grasp, whirling to face him. She pointed out the castle's main gates, into the Village Square.

"I am going out there. I don't care if you believe me or not, but something is out there. I can feel it." Arthur scoffed disbelievingly.

"Oh you feel it? Are you sure you aren't just buying time to start whatever offense you have planned?"

Arthur swore at that moment, that he saw something in Elladora's eyes snap at the exact moment the words left his lips. Her eyes blazed and she stepped forward until she was nose to nose with him.

"I will not stand by idly while I am insulted, Arthur -"

"That's _King_ Arthur to you!"

"Then behave like one!" Elladora snapped back, waiting barely a moment to respond to him. "You've made up your mind to make a villain out of me, without taking the time to even _understand_ me. Why does the fact that I possess the ability to do things _you_ can't make you so angry? If you're so desperate to vilify me than go ahead, arrest me." She held her wrists out, together, to him, daring him to do it. When he didn't, she turned to go but called over her shoulder as she kept running.

"Maybe when you decide to act like the King you claim to be, you can use that Royal mind to _understand_ me before you exile me, like you did to Merlin."

Now _that_ left Arthur gaping after him, so blindsided was he, by Elladora's outburst in her own defense that he stood rooted to the spot until his Knights came running out of the castle doors, blowing right past him. But ten paces ahead, they paused and turned back, confusion on their faces at the sight of their King standing baffled, eyes distant.

"Sire?" Leon approached warily and then jumped when Arthur seemed to come out of his fog, finally focusing on the two men in front of him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Come on, we've got to find that halfwit sorceress before she gets herself or us killed."

. . . . . .

After about five minutes of aimless running through the upper town, Leon finally spotted Merlin, well, Elladora, and motioned for the others to follow him. She had her hand on the stone that surrounded Camelot, with her eyes closed. They crept closer, not wanting to startle her.

"I can hear you, you know."

Leon and Percival exchanged glances, still in disbelief that the woman from 7 years ago was in Camelot.

"Next time you try sneaking up on someone, make sure you're not doing while ankle-deep in mud." Then she readjusted the shawl on his shoulders and followed the presence he'd felt in his mind earlier. It was still there, faint and quiet now. As if the creature had been fed and now slunk away to recuperate before attacking again.

"What are you looking for?"

"I'll know when I find it."

"That's hardly very reassuring."

"Oh quiet, or I'll turn the both of you into toads."

"You forget your place, woman." Affronted, Leon placed a hand on the hilt of the sword that hung at his hip. Merlin was well aware that Leon would try to scare him into subservience. As gentle as Leon was, he grew frightening in defense of his King and it was clear that Merlin presented a viable threat. A woman with abilities that could potentially decimate the city and furthermore showed no signs of loyalty to Camelot.

All at once, Merlin spotted what he was looking for. A well with it's cover off, unusual practice since that left the drinking water open to pollution by animals and plants.

"There!" He ran towards it, holding his shift higher up though it didn't stop the mud from splattering the hem, staining it a dark, filthy brown along with his long pale skittered to a stop just before the well, letting go of the fabric bunched up between his fingers.

Merlin had seen quite a number of gruesome sights in his life. It was nothing to be proud of, but at the least, it made sure that he was very rarely caught off guard. Yet, here he was, feeling very much like he needed to retch the contents of his stomach on the floor, the nausea settling in the pit of his stomach like stone.

In front of him, lay the body of a woman. Perhaps the word 'lay' was not the best way to describe it. It was as if someone had sat down a doll, propped up against the walls of the well. Her face was a frozen mask of fear, eyes wide and mouth open in a silent scream. It appeared that she had fallen into the position she was in now. At first, it appeared that the cause of her death was the large wound in her head, likely from knocking into the lip of the uncovered well, but then Merlin noticed the lack of blood from the wound.

"Lords." Merlin heard Leon come up behind him when he and the King caught up. They both stopped short, surveying the surroundings.

"Murder, Sire." Leon murmured to Arthur who nodded, pressing his palms together under his nose. The implications of murder meant, the search, the investigation. _He_ was Camelot's King now, and he had a duty to protect his citizens. That someone had committed murder under his own nose was enough to make his blood boil.

It was then that Merlin noticed that the three of them were standing in a deep trough, carved out in the mud, one that had yet to even itself out, which was surprising given the slippery tendencies of the mud. It was as deep as his knee and as wide as three fruit carts laid out side by side from shortest end to shortest end. Whatever had been here, whatever had killed her was gargantuan in size.

"It was murder, Pendragon, but not by any person." Arthur and Leon stopped the hushed discussions they'd been having to gawk at him. When they showed no signs of understanding of what he meant, Merlin sighed, carding a hand through the tangled curls that lay bedraggled on his head.

"Look at her, she was dead, from no apparent cause before she hit the ground." Arthur eyed her suspiciously.

"How can you know that?"

"Because of the blood. There's not enough of it to be the reason she's dead. Look all the blood has gone to her legs. That's why there isn't as much blood as you would expect of a head wound like that. She was dead before she fell." He snapped, revolted, the more he looked at the body. That had been a woman, once. Someone who had laughed, loved, _lived._ And now thanks to whatever monstrosity that Morgana had called forth, she had become a gross perversion of what she had been in life. Her lips, frozen in that permanent yell somehow reminded Merlin of someone and it wasn't until he looked behind him to the building they stood behind, he realized who it was that lay dead at his feet.

"How could that be?" Leon wondered, aghast at the possiblity.

His knees trembled and he found himself collapsed to his knees, mud squelching repulsively between his fingers as his hand splayed out to break his fall. Arthur and Leon bounded forward, thinking that Merlin was in the process of fainting. They grabbed an arm, attempting to keep her up, Merlin shook his head.

"No. No, no no _no."_ King and subject exchanged looks before looking at him in alarm.

"Mistress, am I to understand that you know this woman?"

"How can you _not_ know her?" The quiet accusation filtering through Merlin's vexed voice. He couldn't believe this was happening. Once again, Morgana had succeeded in making the innocent the victims in the ongoing battle between herself and Arthur.

"She's the taverness of Terry Tavern. Gwaine drinks himself stupid every night." All he could see was Lianora's bright smile in his mind's eye. The same smile he'd seen her sister smile just hours ago.

" _Madalen."_ He whispered. Arthur and Leon looked up from their inspection of the body, while Leon called a passing guard to fetch Gaius.

"Pardon?"

"Her name. It was Madalen. She has three children. What will they do without her?" He lookedblankly at Arthur and the King found it hard in the circumstances, to answer him, because frankly, he had no idea.

. . . . .

"Elladora? What are you -" Merlin winced as Lianora's sentence cut off into a scream as she rounded the corner of the tavern to see why she had been pulled out of bed at the late hour. She ran forward, hands outstretched, as two guards lifted Madalen's body onto a makeshift stretcher to carry to Gaius's quarters. Merlin caught her before she could get any closer, hugging her close, feeling her breath contract painfully in her lungs and her dry heaving turning into wailing sobs.

"Shhh, Lianora, shhh. I'm here." He closed his eyes as Gaius drew a white cloth over the body, covering her face with it. When Lianora could no longer stand, they both sunk to the ground, ignoring the cold silt and the dampness that seeped into their clothes.

By this time, all the Knights were out in full force. They discussed with Arthur in hushed voices their next course of action.

Merlin knew it was irrational but somehow seeing them huddled together and murmuring about plans made him angry. He resolved to himself then and there that this wouldn't be like the other times. This time, he was going to _make_ Arthur listen to him. Camelot needed magic as much as it need Arthur and it was going to start right now, before this creature could kill again.

It was then that Lianora fainted and Gaius rushed forward, helping the other guard's carry Lianora back into her rooms in the tavern. Merlin quickly told the guard that would be guarding her to tell the young woman he would be back soon. He watched them carry her away before starting as something flashed by in the forest behind the well.

He watched again, and sure enough, he saw something dark tear through the brush, branches and trees creaking with its force. Merlin glanced around, mystified that no one else seemed to be able to see the _thing_ in the woods. Even worse, the entity seemed to traveling further into the forest, and Merlin knew that if he kept going in that direction, within hours he would reach the mouth of the entrance to the Valley of the Fallen Kings.

Maybe whatever had come for Madalen had escaped the Valley. The thought was too pressing for Merlin to leave at that and before he was fully aware of his actions, he found himself crashing through the woods at breakneck speed to keep up with the being that careened ahead of him. He paid no mind to the sharp thorns and branches that pulled and tore at his skin, ignoring it when he lost his shawl along the way to brambles that grasped for him. For the closer he seemed to get to it, the more apparent it was that it was an illusion of some kind. There in some physical form but not entirely so.

Then, abruptly, it was gone. Merlin came to a panting stop in the middle of the brush. Dark, and black the forest stretched all around him, seemingly endless and silent. It was noiseless and that put him on edge, because silence in a forest that should have been full of woodland creatures indicated to him that sinister nature of the greenwood. The trees gnarled around each other, high above his head, the moonlight streaming through the open spaces in the dense coverage of branches.

An odd sigh breathed through the woods and Merlin whirled around, breathing hard, the sound harsh to his own ears.

"Who are you and why do you follow me?" Merlin came face to face with the apparition he'd been chasing, his back thunking painfully against the large trunk of an oak tree. He scrabbled for a handhold on the bark, his nails scratching on the bark as he held on, his knuckles white.

He recognized the being he'd been following. Pale skin, dark hair and eyes that promised violent ambitions. They were as dark as they were malicious. Merlin shuddered as he straightened himself up, stepping out from under the oak to address the apparition until both were bathed in moonlight, the effect eerie.

"Morgana."


	16. Easy

**A/N:** Hi, sorry again, I'm re-posting the chapter because I received pm's that said all they saw were coding. Anyways, please comment! It would mean the world !

 **Chapter 16: Easy**

"Elladora? Elladora where are you? Percival, have you seen her? What do you mean who? I mean have you seen Elladora?" Arthur blew a huff of annoyed air, when it became apparent that neither Leon or Percival had seen where their clairvoyant sorceress had wandered off to.

Just as he was about to send them out to look for her, he heard the bushes next to him shake slightly, and then saw Elladora come ducking out of it, bending to avoid the tree branches that would surely tug at her hair. He strode forward, hardly believing the cavalier attitude she was parading around with.

"Where _have_ you been? And for heaven's sake, _where is your wrap?_ " He tapped his foot, knowing how ridiculous he looked in his ruined sleep suit and robes but decidedly thinking he had bigger things to worry about. Elladora did him the favor of not biting his head off this time and answered him directly.

"I thought I saw something." She said simply, grimacing at the feel of the wet shift sticking against her calves, the hems growing crusty with the dirt from her foray into the forest. "The wrap got lost." Arthur fought very hard not to yell, shrugging out of his robes, and tossing it to her, balled up.

"Put it on. I refuse to be seen gallivanting around with a half dressed woman in the dead of night." Merlin held the wadded up cloth, contemplating refusing it just for the sake of being difficult, but then accepted the damp garment, putting his arms through the sleeves and falling in step with the King as he walked back towards the front of the Terry Tavern.

"I forgot about this place. I haven't been here many times my self, but I've sent everyone from George to Gaius to get Gwaine's inebriated behind back to the Knight's barracks. I do vaguely remember Madalen, but I've interacted mostly with the younger sister. Lianora, I think her name was. They used to have a tavern about an hours ride outside of Camelot, but then moved here 2 years ago, after Madalen's husband died in an accident."

Merlin listened silently, feeling guilty for acting as if he alone in the world was the one with problem. Every person had their own battles to fight and to not acknowledge that was a gross oversight on his part. He was so concerned with Arthur, Morgana and the return of Magic, that he forgot _why_ he was doing it in the first place. To make Camelot safe for everyone, so that those who practiced magic didn't have to resort to criminal acts to make their way in life. He pulled the lapels of the robe tighter around his chest, the heavy feeling refusing to lift.

The front door to the tavern creaked open and Percival came out, face haggard.

"How is she?" Merlin asked, ignoring Arthur's mouth twitch disapprovingly, since he'd beaten him to the questioning. Percival, to his credit, took it in stride, and answered succinctly.

"Asleep for now. Gaius gave her a sleeping draught, but its Madalen's children I'm worried about. They went to sleep tonight with their mother alive and tomorrow they will wake as orphans."

"But they'll have the sister." Arthur clapped a hand on Percival's shoulder as they walked past. "Percival, stay here and guard the door. If whatever killed Madalen is still out there, I don't want it coming back to finish the family off. And if you do see it, _don't attack until you know how to kill it."_ The tall Knight nodded and stood at attention as Merlin and Arthur walked back towards the castle, a fact that Merlin didn't notice until they stood at the base of the castle steps, he was that deep in thought.

When he reached his chambers, pushing the doors open to find that three out of the four were asleep. As expected, Godric had stayed stubbornly awake, succeeding where the others had failed. Merlin allowed himself a grim smile. He should have known, Godric would never let this go so easily. Sitting down at the edge of the bed, the two smaller ones having been pushed together in his absence to create a bigger one, he ruffled Salazar blonde hair and locked eyes with Godric. Sleep pulled at him too, but his curiosity was the stronger of the two urges.

"It's late Godric. Go to sleep."

"You can't be serious! We have a right to know too! It's not fair." Merlin gave him a droll look, as he ducked behind the accordion fold screen to slip out of his shift and don a new one. He was in no mood to do any magicking.

"Life is seldom is 'fair' Godric, but you are right. You do have a right to know what happened tonight, but right now, I'm simply too tired to tell you and then the rest again tomorrow. So we will wait for morning and then we shall discuss what to do with what has transpired tonight."

"But _what_ happened tonight?" Godric protested his lack of knowledge, lowering his voice only at the sudden tossing of Salazar, who was nestling his head in the older boy's lap.

"Tomorrow, Godric." Merlin climbed into bed, sinking against the pillows and letting sleep carry him off into oblivion. Godric grumbled to himself, seeing the mistress falling asleep. He settled down to go to sleep himself, and then realized he was being compressed down into the bed by the young blonde. He shoved him off unceremoniously.

"Get off me you great git."

. . . . . . . .

That night, Merlin dreamed restlessly of his encounter with the dark Sorceress that Morgana had become. He'd come out to face her, seeing the suspicion on her face clear, but not marred by fear.

" _You reek of magic woman. I demand you tell me at once who you are."_ For once, Merlin gave thanks for his new appearance. He could attack without restraint.

"I don't think I have an obligation to do any such thing."

"And yet, you know my name. Proper etiquette dictates that we both be in possession of that knowledge, don't you agree?" The woods swirled black and midnight blue in his periphery, it was disorienting and yet, it seemed to almost merge with Morgana's apparition. He fought to remain in control.

"Since you seem so determined for a name, I'll give it to you. I'm sure you've heard of it by now. _Emrys."_

The words that Morgana said next were garbled and her apparition turned a violent silver, turning into a streak of smoke and screeching through the air at him. He woke up sweating profusely, his gaze landing foremost on the window next to the bed, a dubious fog enveloping his view of the sky and it was then that he knew.

 _Something was wrong with the protection wards._

. . . . . . . .

"Wait, are you telling me, that you're just going to trust her word. The word of a," Elyan lowered his voice, to avoid being heard by the Knights outside Great Hall. Arthur and the Knights had all gathered, stood around a table set up at the dais at the far end of the room. " _Sorceress?_ How are to know that she speaks the truth?"

Arthur braced his palms on the table, thinking hard. He glanced up, seeing the faces of the 5 men he'd called in for the briefing. Leon, Lancelot, Gwaine, Percival, Elyan and Gaius.

"Look, like it or not, we've got a murder on our hands. Even if she wasn't killed by some creature, though that's what Elladora insists is the cause, it still means that someone clubbed her over the head. We have enough on our plates with Morgana and when she's going to strike next and we don't need to have to worry about our people killing each other off for petty reasons. So," Arthur pointed down at the scale model of Camelot that he'd had a carpenter build for him, tapping the roof of the Terry Tavern with his index finger. "I need to find out _why_ Madalen died, I don't care if it was magic or some moron with a grudge."

"Poor Lianora," Gwaine said, rubbing his temples, still trying to function despite the raging headache that was waging war in his skull. He made a mental note to drink responsibly next time, and then promptly discarded it.

"I just saw Madalen last night. She just about boxed Della's ears in yesterday for knocking over a barrel of the good ale." He shook the thought away. "Alright. So we have a murderer to find, but how do you want to go about this. A bunch of Knights knocking on people's doors isn't going to do much. They're going to seal their mouths shut."

At that moment the doors to the Great Hall opened and in strode Elladora and Queen Gwenivere. Elladora had donned a gown of deep frozen blue, like the sea, thrown on haphazardly, the collar and shoulders not settled properly. She paid no mind to Gwenivere fussing over her clothes, trying to fix them.

Arthur moved to the front of the dais, peeved to see Elladora elbowing her way into the main room. He sighed, resting his left elbow in his right hand, rubbing his left hand over his eyes. He opened his palm, gesturing towards the sorceress.

"Elladora. Just once, could you try _not_ to barge in to where you don't belong?" She waved her hand dismissively as she approached, one hand on her hip.

"Yes, yes. I'll try to be less of a bane of your existence later. Right now I have something I want you to see." Gwaine and Lancelot exchanged wary glances. Past experiences had taught them that this woman meant them no harm, in fact, she had proven to be allied with them, but her knowledge of skills beyond their comprehension made them hesitant to put blind faith in her.

"Sire, if I may?" Gaius stepped forward, hands in each opposite sleeve. "It might be wise to see what the – er, Mistress has to show you."

Arthur mulled it over for all of a minute, then threw his hands up in defeat.

"Alright, alright, _alright_. We'll go. _Then_ will you leave us alone?" Merlin rolled his eyes. That was another thing he was going to have to teach Arthur. It was the one trait he _had_ unfortunately inherited from Uther. Once he had a specific idea in his head, it took a situation of cataclysmic proportions to prove to him otherwise. _Well,_ Merlin thought grimly as the men filed off the dais and followed him out down the castle steps, _if it's a disaster he wants, Morgana surely isn't going to disappoint us._

Arthur, the Knights and Gwenievere all followed Merlin out to the outer barrier of the Kingdom. Arthur fell into step beside him, the distrust evident in his manner but clearly he was attempting to keep it under lock and key.

"So, what are you doing with the children today?" Merlin knelt to avoid a low hanging branch, maybe on purpose pulling it back so that it would smack an unsuspecting King in the face.

"I dropped them off to Lianora this morning. They understand more than anyone else what that family is going through." After that, the King was silent the rest of the way, nearly bumping into Merlin's back when he stopped upon finding what he had come out to look for.

"Oof!" Arthur may have narrowly avoided colliding with Merlin but that meant that his entire company, including the Queen ended up barrelling into each other, sending them down into an ungainly heap of limbs.

When they managed to extricate themselves, they found Elladora transfixed, staring at the wall in front of them. It was a section of one of the more debilitated parts of the wall that surrounded Camelot. It crumbled in pieces from the top, bits of debris falling every so often, making it so that they would have to continually hop to steer clear of it.

"What are you looking at?" Gwaine hopped up next to Elladora, rubbing his foot from where a stray piece of stone had struck it. He shook the hair out of his face and Merlin swallowed, momentarily distracted by his closeness. Then he closed his eyes and remembered why it was he'd brought them out here in the first place despite every ounce of his common sense telling him not to.

"This," He pointed up slightly above his head. "Is what I came to show you." Six heads looked up in unison to see a symbol drawn on the decaying wall, a dull iron brown in color. It looked like a Y at first, but then with a the a semi circle cutting through the bottom half of the Y, the opening pointed down, told Lancelot all he needed to know. He'd come across enough of these in his travels, though he didn't know what they meant.

"It's a rune." He blinked, coming closer, and touching the wall beneath it. Merlin inclined his head.

"It is. It was drawn by Merlin." It was a gamble, revealing this, but it was essential to his plans that Arthur began to see Merlin for who he was beyond the role of servant. By Arthur's sharp intake of breath, Merlin considered it a success that he wasn't trying to destroy it yet.

"What – what is it?" He asked carefully, thumbing the collar of his chainmail, trying to pull it from his sweat sticky skin.

"It's an enchantment, your Highness. This is a rune meant for protection and prosperity. To ward off misfortune." Arthur cleared his throat, unsure of what to say. The design was crude, unpolished, and stunk of Merlin's handwriting. Elyan leaned closer to get a better look.

"What did he use to write it?" Merlin thought back to the day, a few weeks before the incident that had him thrown out of Camelot. He had spent all day flipping through a book of Norse magic that Gaius had filched from the treasury in the bowels of the castle. There had been a section on the old runes that doubled as spells, or "charms" as the book labeled them. Merlin had shown the book excitedly to Gaius only to be stopped at the peak of his excitement, when the wizened apothecary and physician informed him that that the only way to properly make use of them was to draw them with your own blood.

What had followed was a long and lengthy process of repeatedly cutting his finger when he was drawing the symbols all around the perimeter of the Kingdom.

"His blood." Merlin replied evenly, some part of him reveling in the way their mouths dropped open in shock and the way the Gwenivere stifled her own gasp.

"His blood?" She said, aghast. "But why? Why with his own blood?"

"Merlin would have told me," Lancelot said, tracing the outline of the rune. "I mean, he told me everything."

"This is his blood?" Gwaine was slack jawed, try as he might, he couldn't imagine scrawny little Merlin slicing his skin open to draw blood.

"He used blood, because it was the only thing that would make sure that the enchantment worked. There's eight more like this, all around the castle." Arthur shook his head, gobsmacked. He took in the symbol one last time and then turned to Elladora.

"Show me the others."

And so Merlin spent the afternoon showing Arthur, Gwenivere and the others his handiwork. His brain was in overdrive, attempting to reconcile the idea of showing them what he had done. It was the vain part of him that wanted some kind of acknowledgement for what he had done for them, while the more reasonable side of him scolded him for trying to gain recognition this way. But he soldiered on, he had a reason for doing this.

"So why are you showing us this?" Leon finally asked as they approached the eighth and last rune on the walls. This one was the worst off, the symbol all but erased, only a faint outline remaining. Merlin shoved his sleeve up and whipped a dagger off of Percival's belt, since he was standing closest to him.

"So I can show you this." He drew a shallow cut over his palm and ignoring the cries of Knights. "So I can show you _how_ Merlin protected the castle, with Magic you all hate so much."

"What are you _doing_ , you absurd woman?" Gwenivere made to grab his hand, to cover it with a handkerchief pulled from her bodice.

"What I came here to do, you dollop-head." Merlin mentally cursed when he saw the look of recognition on Arthur's face and quickly tacked on an ending for his sentence. "Merlin taught me that. Said nothing made you more likely to box his head in."

The King's mouth twitched involuntarily at the reminder of the phrase but quickly schooled it. It didn't escape Merlin's notice however, and he took some small satisfaction in the expression. He then turned to concentrate, using the index finger of his other to dip into his blood and smear it onto the symbol, creating it anew.

The character suddenly burst into flame, a fiery red that hissed and then melted into the stonework. Merlin wiped his bloody hand on his gown, and accepted the handerchief once again, to wrap carelessly around the cut.

They walked back into town, this symbol the closest to the front gates of the Kingdom. All of them processing the new side of Merlin that they had just been exposed to. No one knew how to reconcile the clumsy boy with the big ears, to a warlock that used his own blood to place enchantments on Camelot.

. . . . .

A hooded figure watched them leave, without so much as a glance behind them to the drying blood. She carved a sinister silhouette, this woman, as she crept up to the mark, pulling a long, pointed dagger as she went.

She swiped the dagger down, a quick motion that broke the perfect line, rendering the ward useless. Raising the blade up to her face, she ran a tongue appreciatively down the length of it, savoring the taste of the sorceress's blood on it, the crimson liquid staining her teeth a dark cranberry red.

 _Oh, you make this too easy._


	17. Assassination

**A/N:**  
Hey guys.  
Phew it's been a while. I'm sorry it took so long, I've been suuuuper sick for a week.  
But at least its here now.  
Definitely tell me what you felt about the chapter.  
Comments help me think! ;)

 **Chapter 17: Assassination**

It wasn't fair! Penelope wiped an errant tear away angrily, grabbing large bushels of lemon grass off the ground. The more she wiped, however, more tears would follow. Why did everyone always blame her?!

She was crouched in the herbal field outside Camelot's gate behind the kitchens. Penelope had been sent there as punishment for dropping the mead on the sleeve of the Head of Housekeeping. Nevermind that it hadn't actually been her, but rather the young woman next to her, a 14 year old child that was recently added to staff. That nasty, smarmy smile of the Head of Housekeeping kept plaguing her memory, as he'd told the child he'd let that affront go...if she would meet him after night fell in his chambers.

Before she could even stop herself, Penelope had insinuated herself into the middle of the exchange, insisting it had been her. Of course, her interception hadn't fooled anyone so, here she was, being sent to do menial tasks that were certainly beneath her, while that poor girl was probably terrified of nightfall. In the end, she'd helped no one and only added to her own misery.

Penelope felt like such a fool, as she sniffed, the sound ending wetly as she finished another basket of lemon grass and moved on to the thyme and rosemary. One day, they would see. She wasn't just a scullery maid. She was the scullery maid for the Queen's maids. One day, the Queen would notice her, see her loyalty. One day, she would be the Queen's maid, maybe even her Lady-in-waiting. After all, if a lady – in – waiting could become Queen, then why couldn't a scullery maid become a lady-in-waiting?

The sound of a branch splintering made her snap her head up in alarm, looking up in time to see a hooded figure emerge from the trees immediately in front of her. The hood on figure, decidedly womanly in shape, did little to allow Penelope to see much beyond the emerald colored eyes that gazed at her. Then she bent down to kneel in front of her, using two slender fingers to brush her tear swollen cheeks and eyes.

Her eyes, mesmerized her so much so that she found herself frozen in their power. Behind her, in the darkness of the forest, something slunk by, huge and menacing, with only the silhouette visible.

"Why do you cry, sweet thing?" There was a pause as the eyes searched hers and Penelope felt, in their etherealness that they were reading her, seeing into her very soul. "Ah. Pity. A frightened child and her guileless champion." She used the same fingers to angle her chin higher, enabling Penelope to see past the hood, and what she saw chilled her. It was a face that was as human as herself and yet, the frost that extended from her eyes, and seemed to seep into her very being told her that to underestimate her would an error of the gravest consequences.

She had scant seconds to register those thoughts before the hand that cupped Penelope's chin came to press her palm against her forehead and her eyes flashed a fearsome red. Her face contorted in pain for a moment before smoothing into a glassy stare. When the sorceress lifted her palm, a small symbol remained, in fiery red, a sun. Within moments, the sign faded and melted into her skin, erasing all traces of having existed.

"Well my gallant hero. You shall have that which your heart desires. A Queen's maid you shall be and revenge shall be your wine tonight." With that the sorceress withdrew her palms and blew over the outstretched palm as she pulled up close to her lips, like blowing a kiss.

It blew such a gale that Penelope was jolted out of her trance, blinking around and finding herself alone. Her hand still held a bushel of thyme, as she glanced around, searching for evidence of the woman she'd seen. When she found none, she touched the back of her hand to her cheek, wondering if her emotions had made her hysterical enough to make up things. Penelope shook her head and rose to her feet, gathering the baskets as she went, piling on top of each other. She turned and angled her head up to look at the minarets of the castle. One day, she thought, bracing the baskets on her hips, unaware of the sun sign blazing momentarily on her forehead before going dormant as she crossed the castle borders just a few yards from Merlin's broken wards.

The sorceress watched her leave, smiling to herself as she palmed the teal and emerald colored stone rested on her decollete, murmuring.

"It is done, my Lady."

The stone swirled with hues of purple and pink in response.

. . . .

"What you're saying doesn't make any sense, Elladora." Arthur strode back into the great hall, up to the dais, turning in a flare of robes as he faced her from the elevated height. Merlin thought he was going to strangle himself if he had to listen to Arthur bungle his way through Merlin's explanation again.

"I mean, I was there to witness it, sire." This was the first that Lancelot had spoken since their trek back from the castle walls. Arthur pursed his lips, clearly fighting to stay within his senses, but Merlin had very little patience left, expending it all on trying to stay calm.

There was a beast run amok in Camelot's borders and he was no closer than yesterday to figuring out what it was. He still hadn't been to see Lianora yet and he wanted to talk to Gaius in hopes of procuring a particular book he had in his personal collection.

"Witness what?" Arthur's voice was laced with annoyance. It seemed he was still having trouble reconciling his manservant as someone who would slit his flesh to scribble on the castle walls.

"Everything he's ever done that had magic since I've met him." Arthur made a half choked noise that bordered on indignant at the mention of sorcery. He swallowed it down, managing to eke out a response.

"And what would that be?" Leon, Gwaine, Elyan and Percival stayed silent through the exchange. Most times, Lancelot stayed quiet on the matter regarding Merlin. It was understood that the King had heard his opinions on the matter but beyond that they hadn't had such an explicit conversation about him since that night seven years ago and since then only briefly on the anniversary of his exile when they lay in drunken stupors from unofficially drinking in his memory.

"He killed the Griffin, he spilt the chalice when Morgana tried to take over Camelot and in every battle we've ever fought, he's always been there. I've seen him make the hilts of enemy weapons glow red hot in their hands, branches drop to knock out people who could have very well killed us. He's exposed plots to kill you in much the same way."

Arthur stared at Lancelot, words escaping his grasp. Merlin could feel his face grow hot, the more Lancelot spoke. Finally as the silence stretched in Arthur's speechlessness, with even Gwen unable of finding some way to clear the tension, Merlin coughed discreetly, drawing all the attention himself.

"I believe I have perhaps overstayed my welcome in the castle." He felt rather than saw Gwen's gasp and Arthur's look of surprise. He'd been here for a little over a day and already he could tell that maybe he had been too zealous in his hopes that he could make Arthur see his way. Now he was beginning to realize that he was intending to do nothing more than force his opinions on the man.

"Elladora! If I or," Here Gwen shot Arthur a stern look, as if to say 'if you had anything to do with this...' "or my husband have done anything to offend you, please do tell me. I'd hate for my savior to leave feeling insulted by anything I've done." But Merlin was shaking his head before the Queen had even finished her sentence.

" My Queen, please." He'd reverted to formal speech, the concept dawning on him that he was too familiar with the monarchs of Camelot. "I've done my part in showing you how I -" He swallowed, rushing to cover the slip of tongue. "How Merlin protected you, and in turn how you can protect yourselves. But there is someone who has need of me." Merlin didn't see the flash of a brief but familiar expression cross Gwenivere's face and the subsequent scrutiny with which she observed him.

Merlin could see the moment upon which Arthur understood where Merlin was trying to go.

"You want to go stay with Lianora." He nodded, and Gwen clutched his arm.

"Surely you could check on her and stay here in the meantime? I believe it would be far too burdensome for her to put you up in her home." Merlin thought, stumped by the truth of Gwenivere's observation. Arthur sighed.

"As much as you and I have our differences," Arthur looked like he was in physical pain as he said this. "I believe Gwenivere is right. You cannot stay with Lianora, but you wish to help her, just as you want to prove to me that there is, in your opinion, something within Camelot's borders that seeks to harm us. So it would seem that for the time being, we are stuck with each other until such time that we can safely say that the threat is past."

Merlin was silent, thinking it over. He wanted to help Lianora, but he needed access to Gaius to solve this problem that they had.

"Very well." He said, convinced for now, that it was in his best interests to stay. "I will accept your proposal for now. But if you'll excuse me, I think I'll check on the children and see Lianora now." Arthur raised his hands in a 'by all means' gesture.

"Please."

Merlin turned and left, unaware until he was halfway down the hallway that he heard Gwenievere's hurried footsteps behind him, struggling to keep up. He slowed down on purpose, thinking it rude to keep walking so that she couldn't keep up.

"Elladora."

"Yes, your Highness?"

"Are you.." She hesitated, unsure of how to continue. She found the courage to continue as they approached his bedchambers. "Are you in touch with – with Merlin?"

He nodded, untrusting of his voice at the moment, caught off guard by the question.

"Is he, I mean how is he? What does he do? Where does he live?"

He opened the doors to his rooms and found himself instantly embarrassed by the state of things. They'd only been there a night, but the room was trashed. There were clothes on the floor, on the beds, strewn by the window and washbasins. Before he could offer apologies or excuses for the condition of their rooms, Gwenivere had already gone in, picking up clothes and tidying.

"Your Highness, please. I'll clean it up. You don't have to do this." But Gwenivere paid him no mind and continued cleaning. "My Queen, really, this isn't necessary."

Gwenivere picked up the clothes Merlin had strewn by the bed last night, he grabbed them out of her hands, balling them up and holding them behind his back. Undeterred, she continued, a thoughtful look on her face. "Your Highness, your highness." Now he was just frustrated. "Gwen!"

He froze at the same time that Gwenivere literally stopped in the middle of folding Godric's tunic and placing it on the bed. She turned to him, eyes wide, the expression mirrored in Merlin's face. There was no way of mistaking the tone in which he'd said her name. Even with his voice pitched higher, the nuance was clearly his. Not Elladora's, not the sorceress that he was, but his. Merlin's. And Gwen knew it.

She dropped the maroon fabric and haltingly stepped towards him.

"I thought, maybe. But I didn't dare hope." She cupped his face with her hand, slightly cool to the touch and trembling. Gwenivere's face was hopeful, eyes searching his and Merlin knew that even if he denied it now, she would know.

"It really is you isn't it?" Merlin closed his eyes, took a deep breath, opening to see that she had stayed where she was, eagerly and slightly fearing his response.

"Hello Gwenivere. It's been a while-"

A heap of skirts and hair knocked him off his feet.

. . . .

It was silent inside the Terry Tavern, even if there were 8 people inside its walls. The place was closed for business, even if Lianora knew that closing for a day would mean a serious dent in her daily earnings. She sat at a table in the center of the tavern, looking at the wide expanse around her. She hadn't brushed her hair, or changed clothes. By her mind's calculations, it was now just before sundown, when the first of her customers usually arrived.

Lianora couldn't care less, her shoulders were slumped and her hands carded through her hair. Beside her, Della, Rowley and Earna sat, hollow eyed and with vacant stares. All of them unsure of how to work through the knot of emotions in her chest.

In her mind she could see Madalen smiling at her, making fun of her messy hair and calling her to open the ale barrels for the day. She could see her swirling around with a mop and broom, laughing and singing that awful song their mother used to sing with her voice that sounded more like a troll than a lark. The tears threatened to spill again before she noticed a broom mopping the floor behind her.

A broom minus the guidance of a person.

She started, whipping back to see rags wiping down tables and dishes scrubbing themselves. Lianora nudged Rowley.

"Oi. Rowley. You seein' what I'm seein'?" It took the boy a moment to focus but when he did, his jaw dropped open. Soon they were all staring at the sight around them. An entire tavern was cleaning itself!

Well. Not quite itself. The perpetrators were finally spotted behind the counter, crouching so only the crowns of their heads were visible.

"Oi! What are you lot doing?" The broom beside them faltered and knocked over its accompanying bucket of washing water.

"Helga!" The voice was Salazar's and the sound made Lianora's mouth twitch.

"Sorry!" The water magically sucked itself out of the floor and back into the bucket, the broom cleaning even more vigorously than before.

The front door to the tavern opened and Lianora was about to tell them that the tavern was closed for the day when the figure stopped short.

"What in the name of Avalon is going on in here?" The light dimmed as Lianora's eyes adjusted and finally she saw the figure as Merlin. All around them, brooms dropped, dishes clattered into the sink, with some shattering and rags flopped limply onto the tables.

"Merlin!" Lianora ran to him, stopping jus short of throwing herself into his arms. The woman smiled at her, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Hello. I'm sorry it took me so long to come to you." She shook her head, suddenly not trusting herself to refrain from crying if she talked. Merlin patted her head and held up a finger as if to say 'hold on'. Godric, Helga, Rowena and Salazar hadn't emerged from their hiding places yet.

Merlin went and walked deftly around the counter, surprising them. They all jumped into standing, looking guilty. Merlin put his hands on his hips.

"What are you four doing?"

"Cleaning up?" Salazar said, voice hopeful. Merlin smiled at him.

"Cleaning? But you're all sitting back here, twiddling your thumbs, how could you be cleaning? Unless you're using magic." Godric gulped.

"But that would be silly right? You couldn't possibly be using magic. Not after I specifically told you that using magic would get us all killed, right?" This time all four shuffled their feet. Merlin knocked Salazar and Godric's heads together, ("ouch!") and pinched Helga and Rowena's noses for good measure.

"If I see you boneheads using magic again, I'm going to apparate you all back to Carhaix and make you stay with Derek and Eliana until I get back!" They rubbed their heads, glaring balefully at her. \

"I don't get it," Salazar whined. "The King knows, so why can't we?"

"Because everyone else still hates magic, you clot-pole." Merlin silenced Salazar's indignant 'hey!' By giving her a pointed look.

"Be nice you two. There's enough going on, without you two calling each other names. Now, go see if you can't make those three feel any better, hmm? I have to talk to Lianora."

"Yes, Mistress." The response was like a chorus and soon they were all with the three kids, tugging them into the back room, to give Merlin and Lianora space and to have space themselves.

Merlin sat down at a table, patting the table so that Lianora would follow and sit with him. When she did, Merlin noted that her eyes were red rimmed and distant.

"Lianora." The red head didn't look up, choosing to stare at the wooden swirls in the table.

"Hmm?"

"Lianora, look at me." She stubbornly shook her head, biting her lip.

"If I do, I'll see the pity in your eyes, and then I'll lose it. And I can't. I just can't. If I do that, how are those three supposed to cope?" Merlin felt his heart clench in sympathy. He knew what it felt like to some extent.

"I know. But we need to talk."

"About what?"

"About what you're going to do. Madalen – Madalen's gone. That mean's the Terry Tavern is yours to look after. How are you going to keep up with this? You were barely keeping up between the two of you." Lianora rubbed her face, finally meeting his eyes.

"I'll manage, Merlin. I always have and I always will." Undeterred, Merlin asked again, reaching to clasp her hand between both of his.

"How?"

This time Lianora stayed silent, for it was a question to which the answer still eluded her.

. . . . . .

It was nightfall by the time Merlin and the kids made it back to the castle. It had been a long day and Merlin's shoulders ached from the day's exertions. When they entered the main gates, Merlin found Gwenivere pacing in the front, dressed in a brilliant red gown, one that reminded him of the gown she wore to her coronation as Queen.

"Gwenivere?" She jumped when he called her name and her eyes brightened when they landed on him.

"Oh!" She ran over, grasping his hands, "I thought, maybe, that you wouldn't comeback."

"Why wouldn't we comeback?" For the first time, Gwenievere registered that Godric, Salazar, Rowena and Helga were with him and she stepped back, clearing her throat.

"I –uh- It's nothing. Dinner is about to be served, Mer-Elladora. Please. Join us in the Hall." Gwenivere flashed him a wide smile before making her way there herself.

. . . .

That night, after the children had gone to sleep, following a mini lesson about transforming inanimate objects into living creatures, Merlin stepped out of his room, and silently traveled through the dim corridors to the Queen's sitting room.

Once arriving at the doors, nodding at the two guards that protected the doors, Merlin knocked twice and the door creaked open to reveal Gwenivere behind it, dressed in white, chiffon casual dress, with her hair taken down from its elaborate hairstyle and left becomingly draped down her back.

She motioned him inside and after looking both ways down the corridors he stepped into her sitting room, allowing her to close the door behind him. Before he had a chance to sit down however, Merlin felt Gwenivere hug him from behind, her arms snaking around to the front and staying there for a moment before she released him.

Then she stepped out from behind him to go sit where she had been previously, indicating for Merlin to take the seat opposite her in front of the fire that she had blazing in the hearth between them.

"Arthur...?" Merlin asked without asking.

"He's still in the throne room with all the Knights. They're going over plans for the envoys from King Pellinor's kingdom that arrive next fortnight. Don't worry, we won't be over heard." Merlin nodded, steepling his fingers under his chin, aware of how Gwenivere was watching him.

"It really is you isn't it?" She asked softly, her eyes roving Merlin's effeminate figure, the lines of his face and the slender points of his fingers. Merlin bowed his head wordlessly, and the Queen watched the movement with something close to awe.

"How did I not notice before? Everything thing you do is exactly the same. From the way you talk to the way you act. It's always been you." Merlin sighed, raising a hand and flicking it in the direction of the door, casting a muffling spell on it to make sure they weren't heard by the guards that were posted outside the chamber before he spoke to her.

"How did you know it was me?"

"The clothes for one. I won't matter what gender you are, you still take your clothes off and throw them away in the same manner as before. Also, no one but you and Arthur call me Gwen. Even Elyan calls me Gwenivere." A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. He should have known that he would be able to fool everyone but the Queen. Gwenivere had always been the most observant of all of them, even more so than Lancelot.

"But why are you hiding? Why are you a woman?"

"I needed to be someone else for a while. It's too hard being Merlin." It was the first time he'd said this to anyone, he thought as Gwenievere reached over to put a hand on top of his comfortingly.

"Being Merlin meant I was a criminal with no where to go. But as Elladora, I don't have anyone to answer to but myself." Gwenivere said nothing and sympathetically squeezed the hand she held. "But even I know I can't be Elladora forever. At some point I have to go back to being Merlin. I just don't know how."

"So the children?"

"They're like me Gwen." He said earnestly, leaning forward unconsciously. "But they don't have a choice, like everyone thinks that you have to learn magic, that you can't have it unless you learn it, but they're wrong. People like me and them. We don't have a choice." He said it softly but it came out sounding like a plea for someone to understand.

"We didn't learn magic, Gwenivere, we are magic. If we don't learn how to control it, you can kill people just by thinking the wrong thing. It's important to have someone to teach you. That's all I'm doing. Those four have strong magic, stronger than I've seen in a long time. If I don't teach them how to use magic without proper training, it'll be dangerous, for them and everyone else."

"And you're doing this alone? With no one to help?" Merlin slumped back into the chair, pulling his hand from hers. She followed it however, coming to perch on the arm of his chair, pulling him into a sideways hug, one arm around his shoulder that pulled him to her.

"Merlin, you've been doing this alone for 7 years? Playing parent to four small children. It can't have been easy." He stayed silent at that, unable to explain to her how the last 7 years of his life had passed.

"I thought about you everyday you know." The admission caused Merlin to look up at her sharply. She shrugged, rubbing his shoulder.

"Like it or not Merlin, the one who changed the old Arthur to the man I love, was you. It always was you. Even when you left, Merlin, he still didn't lose the things you taught him, The things he didn't know you've taught him."

He stared at her, surprise apparently so evident on his face that Gwen laughed.

"It's true, you silly, silly man." She paused and pulled away slightly, looking him over. "Or maybe I should say woman."

"Gwen!"

. . . . . . .

Clarine walked fearfully down the corridor, the hallways lit dimly. She was dressed in her work clothes as she made her way to the Head of Housekeeping's bed chambers. As she got closer, Clarine couldn't help but cry. When she'd told her mother that she would go work in the castle, this wasn't what she had meant. All she wanted was to earn higher wages to help her family get by.

She had 4 younger siblings, she thought as she steeled herself. She had to be strong, for them. She had to stay in the castle so she could make money. Clarine rounded the corner, to the hallway where The Head's chamber's were and stopped in her tracks.

The doorway to his rooms were destroyed. Splintered into a thousand pieces that littered the floor and stones that lined the doorway were knocked off, lying haphazardly broken along the splinters. The space that was crumbled along the walls was as wide five large iron cauldrons placed side by side.

Timidly, she approached the room, peering inside, her eyes went wide and she stumbled back, falling over stone bricks and scrambling back so she hit the opposite wall and screamed. Screamed so loud that it echoed all over the palace.

. . . . .

Merlin and Gwen sat up straight, startled by the sound. He ran over to the doors and opened them, sticking his head out and looking both ways. Gwenivere shouldered past him and took off running down the corridor, hands grabbing her skirts, hair flaring behind her as she went. The knight that had been at the door took off after the Queen and Merlin took off after them, cursing the skirts that got caught underfoot as he ran.

They followed the noise and got to the source almost at the same time that Arthur and the Knights did, with Percival leading the charge and taking care of the girl they found shaking outside the chambers. Merlin, however, reached the room first and glanced inside, Arthur coming in behind him, taking in the damage to the walls. They saw as they walked in that head of the Household lay on his bed, face frozen in fear, but what held their attention instantly was the dagger that pierced his left palm and anchored it to the bedside table next him.

Merlin gingerly knelt next to him, holding his wrist, to check for a heartbeat. He looked up at Arthur who gazed at him expectantly and shook his head, indicated the man was deceased.

"Surely that wound wasn't enough to kill him." The King said disbelievingly. "What happened here? Why is the state of the room like this. Wouldn't we have heard this level of destruction."

"No. He wouldn't have." Merlin bit his lip as he looked around. "This dagger is shoved through his hand, almost like whoever was here didn't want him escaping what killed him."

"This is it, isn't it?" Arthur asked Merlin. "The same thing that killed the taverness. It's here. In the castle."

Gwaine grimly finished the thought that had entered everyone's minds at the King's words.

"And it didn't come here alone. This was an assassination."


	18. Camelot

A/N:GUYS GUYS GUYS. I SNEEZED LIKE 7 TIMES IN A ROW WHEN I SAT DOWN JUST NOW.

I think I lost some of my brain. Jeez.

Anyways, I'm here with something of a filler chapter.

Please read and comment!

I live for the responses you guys send mee!

Also, congratulations to those who guess the beastie correctly! Virtual high five!

Happy reading!

 **Chapter 18:** **Camelot**

It was a gruesome sight, despite the nature of the kill being fairly wholesome, the only visible source of blood appearing to be the wound in the hand of the unfortunate victim. The head of Housekeeping, whose name Merlin learned, was Bertram, a fitting name for a man who preferred his things shiny and new much like his namesake, the raven, had been essentially pinned to his bedside table. The tearing around the wound showed Merlin exactly how scared the man had been before he had died.

It seemed odd though, that the struggle for his life should have ended so quickly then. Bertram had enough time to struggle just _once_ against his attacker, before seemingly dying of no prominently evident cause.

"Sire, I would hazard to say that Gwaine's right. Of everyone in the castle, there's not much benefit to kill Master Bertram, we would notice his absence and no one could easily replace him. This was very clearly meant to be some sort of execution." Leon said, putting his hand out to test the wall that _should_ technically have held Bertram's door. A loud sniffle suddenly brought the attention back to the woman who had been found hysterical outside of the room, and whose screams had lead them to the chambers in the first place.

Almost simultaneously everyone turned to look at the diminutive child that Gwenivere had ensconced in her arms. Lancelot, closest to her, knelt next to them and asked her in as gentle a voice as he could muster.

"I'm sorry young lady, but I must ask, why was it that you were approaching the chambers of a grown man alone at this time of night?" The question only served to make the child curl in on herself and start sobbing a new, clearly distraught. Merlin found it hard to look at her. This was a look he well recognized, even if he didn't know why she wore it. It was the look of a woman at her wits end, whose options had run out. As he averted his gaze, Merlin's gaze landed on something glinting, embedded in the woodwork of the bed frame. He pried it out and examined it, seeing that to his best guess, it was some type of scale, though belonging to what, he couldn't be sure. It glittered strangely in the light of the candles in the room, a deep obsidian black. The girl's sniffles got louder and Merlin pocketed it, figuring he would study it later.

"She was here because that bastard told her to come to him." A harsh voice cut through the group and Arthur turned to find Penelope, to him an unnamed servant, walking towards them, gently taking over the care of Clarine from Gwenivere, who still hovered maternally around the young girl. The King raised an eyebrow at her, and she seemed to remember who it was that she was speaking to, since she dropped into a curtsey at the gesture from the man.

"Apologies, sire. My name is Penelope, I am one of Queen Gwenivere's scullery maid's." She paused for a moment. "Well, I'm her lady in waiting's scullery maid." Arthur looked over at Gwenivere who nodded, vaguely remembering the girl as arriving to work in the castle mere months before she had been made Queen.

"Very well then, Penelope. I'm sure the Knight's, as well as myself would like to know why you're referring to the head of my castle's upkeep as a 'bastard'?" The look of expectation leveled at her from the King was enough to have made a younger version of Penelope turn tail and run. But now, she was older, wiser, and she had a goal. She would expose this man for who he was. If she couldn't trust her King and Queen with the truth, then who, in the end, would be left to trust?

"Begging your pardon sire, but I say that because it is the only polite way within which to address the man." She upturned her nose in distaste, at seeing his corpse laid out on the bed, frozen in terror. "He was notorious for taking young women who had just started work here, and using them to satisfy his own perverse lust." Gwaine seemed to go a bit green at the gills there, while Leon looked outraged, though Merlin couldn't be sure whether it was in the man's defense or in horror.

"It's for that reason that Clarine was told to come here tonight. She accidentally stained his robes today," she indicated to his robes, hanging untouched on a hook in the open wardrobe and when Elyan gingerly walked over the rubble in the room to confirm the clothes were indeed stained. "He told her that he would consider not turning her out, if she came to his chambers tonight, to work off her affront to his precious body." The girl's expression made it quite clear what she thought of that particular transaction.

There were a series of unreadable looks that transversed between Arthur and his knight's and after a few terse moments of thought, it seemed Arthur had decided to believe her. Merlin himself was unsure of the happenings since this man had become Head _after_ he'd left, so he had no idea of whether she was telling the truth, though she certainly seemed to be. In the end, a sentry guard was sent to escort the two girls back to their quarters and Arthur was conversing with another pair of knights, arranging for Bertram's body to be transported down to Gaius, in the hopes of perhaps finding a cause of death or at least a clue to the nature of the beast who'd killed him.

He then cordoned the area, instructing it's guards to let absolutely no one in. When that was done, he found his knight's looking weary as well as Gwenivere, given the late hour, but saw that Elladora was wide awake and deep in thought.

"Come, Mistress, let us escort you back to your rooms, and you can tell me what has so throughly grabbed your attention." Merlin scowled at the King, hearing the slight taunt in the words, but chose to bite his tongue. He nodded his acquiescence to the escort, knowing it wasn't really a request. They walked in group back down to the west wing, Arthur, Gwen and Merlin in front, the Knights trailing behind.

There was a prolonged portion of silence that stretched as they walked, Arthur studying Merlin as Merlin thought.

"Well?" Merlin locked eyes with the King, to find him waiting expectantly for Merlin to say something.

"Sorry, what?" Was all Merlin could say to respond. The King rolled his eyes.

"I'm asking what you made of this? Someone has killed a man, in _my_ castle, right under my nose, and I heard not a whisper of it." There was a hint of worry in his voice and Merlin realized that this posed another problem entirely. Whatever had killed Madalen was in the castle, and that meant, that it had help. Whatever it was had gone through his wards, was more powerful than his wards.

"I don't have much input, I'm afraid. It is certain for sure, that it's the work of the same beast, but I'm no closer to figuring out it's nature. I'll need to consult with my own texts first." Gwaine exchanged a look between himself and Percival.

"Your texts? You've brought them with you?" Merlin graced him with a sly smile, remembering his magick bag.

"Something like that, yes."

"Well, here we are, Mistress." Merlin sighed. He knew, when he placed his hand on the door jamb that there was no way he was sleeping tonight. At least not for long, he needed to find out what was picking people off in Camelot. He flashed Arthur and then Gwen beside him a small smile.

"Thank you for coming with me, although I didn't need the protection, you know." Arthur flushed, his intentions revealed. He squared his shoulders and gave Merlin a look that dripped with sarcasm.

"Yes, well. Seeing as something is trying to kill people I'd rather not have to be worried about you turning into a corpse on my watch."

"Charming." Merlin responded wryly. What happened to the always diplomatic Arthur that he'd seen over the course of his manservant days? Why was it that no matter which gender he was he elicited the same response from the man? Merlin could have laughed from the absurdness. So he gave a half hearted wave, and pushed the handle to door open.

 _Just_ in time to see the washtub run past the door on four dog legs to his side of the room.

Merlin shut the door and blinked. Arthur and Gwenivere hadn't seen it as far as he could tell. He cracked it open again and saw the washtub sprint past again in the other direction, water sloshing over the edge as Godric and Rowena made a diving grab for the magicked tub. He slammed it closed, knocking his head on the door, groaning. He'd been gone for an hour, at most. He should have known they weren't asleep when he left, he hadn't heard Godric snore. _I'm going to give those trolls a lesson they won't soon forget._

"Uh, Elladora, are you alright? Don't you want to go in?" Arthur asked, slightly suspicious. _Right_ _after I figure out how to get rid of this procession_ _behind me_ _._ Merlin turned around, one hand firmly on the door jamb behind him, and gave the monarchs a strained grin. Just because Arthur _knew_ they could do magic didn't mean he was alright with the idea of them performing it right under his royal nose.

 _Now_ he understood how Gaius must have felt whenever he'd done something like this, brought them just _that_ much closer to being flambed on the pyre out in the castle courtyard. He was equal parts exasperated and a little bit amused at their antics. He heard Salazar curse and Helga yelp as they presumably missed the opportunity to grab it again, the tub banging against the door, jostling it. He settled for scratching his temple whilst he tried to figure out a way to stall for time. The looks he was getting from Percival, usually the calmest of the bunch, were turning from placid to mildly concerned at the jostling of the door.

From inside Merlin could hear muffled yelling as they tried to spell the situation under control. He heard Godric yell " _Inverso!"_ At percisely the same moment that Helga yelled " _Canis_ _novis_ _!"_

It backfired immediately. The door behind Merlin seemed to swell with magic, though only Merlin could feel it. He prayed to any deity that was listening to spare him the disaster that was coming his way. Of course, no one answered and he was left lurching forward, propelled by the door jerking out of its hinges, the door having suddenly sprouted canine legs and hurtled down the corridor in a desperate bid to escape.

Gwaine and Lancelot jumped back, the long haired Knight letting out a girlish shriek as the slab of wood zoomed past, clutching Elyan's shoulder. There was a moment in the next few seconds, where the King stared from between Merlin and his children, half of whom were still trying to catch the basin while the others had realized now they had an audience.

Merlin wanted to curl up and disappear, but the banging and crashing of the door reminded him that he could die of mortification later, there was a runaway door he needed apprehend first. He flashed the baffled King a smile and held up one finger.

"Just give me a minute."

With that, Merlin grabbed as much of his skirts as he could and took off, tearing down the hallway after the door, which was running surprisingly fast for a slab of wood with four disproportionate legs attached to its bottom half, the legs starting from a foot off the bottom of the door. Behind him, he could vaguely hear the sounds of two of the knights coming after him, most likely Percival and Elyan by the sound of the huffing and puffing that followed him.

As he careened towards the door, it quickly became apparent that Merlin wasn't going to be able to catch up to it in time to un-enchant the door, so he did the only thing he could, and used a spell, in full view of the King and his Queen. Throwing out a hand, he skidded to a stop and barely stopped himself from toppling over as Percival and Elyan collided into his back.

" _Bombarda!"_ The spell had been in one of the books that he used to read when he'd lived here. It tended to be useful to get rid of experiments that had gone mysteriously awry. The door glowed a bright gold for a moment before exploding into a thousand tiny sparkling pieces. He had barely had time to catch his breath before he heard Rowena yell

"Watch out, Mistress!" Merlin, who was bent over, bracing his hands on his knees, glanced over to see that this time the wash tub seemed to want to make a break for it as well. It was a bizarre sight, that was certain. This washtub coming at them, in full force, the water sloshing around inside, now reduced to such a small volume that it could no longer spill over the sides. Then, down the corridor, Helga managed throw herself out into the hallway, tripping over her nightgown, and stumbling in front of Arthur, who grabbed her upper arm instinctively, supporting her efforts to stand back up.

Helga held out a hand and yelled as loud as she could. Merlin could have laughed – if he'd had the spare breath to – at how Elyan and Percival clutched each other as the strange thing approached.

" _Inverso!"_

Suddenly, in mid canter, the wash tub's legs disappeared and the whole thing slammed back down on to the floor, the base cracking and flooding the floor with the remainder of the water in the tub.

Helga was breathing heavily, seeing that the spell had worked, she slumped to the floor, exhausted. Godric, Salazar and Rowena following her example. Seeing the shocked looks on everyone's faces, their first run in with non-life threatening – relatively so – magic, something inside Merlin snapped.

He toppled over backwards, landing on his bottom on the hard stone floor, and began to laugh in earnest. The sound of it echoed through the hallway, with Arthur, Gwenivere, and his men staring open mouthed at him, believing maybe he'd finally cracked. Then Gwenivere's shoulders began to shake, and soon she could no longer hold back, peals of laughter escaping her, the sound of it similar to tinkling bells.

In a matter of moments, the entire hallway was engulfed in breathless guffaws, until tears streamed down their faces. It took a fair amount of time to calm down but when they did, everyone was slumped on the floor, tired from the events of the day. It was by now quite past midnight Merlin would guess. Arthur and Gwenivere shakily stood, supporting each other, followed by their Knights. Merlin got up as well, making his way over to his still collapsed children. This time he knocked each of them in the head.

"Ouch!" The audible protest earned them another whack.

"Ouch? _Ouch?_ You think you four have the right to complain? What exactly were you trying to do? I was gone for an hour _at_ most! Come on, quickly, what were you trying to do?" He looked back at the curious stares behind him and leaned close to the four, holding up a hand to shield his mouth as he whispered to them. "Have you forgotten whose castle we're in? After only one day?." He rapped Godric in the forehead with his knuckles. "This castle belongs to King Arthur."

Godric stammered, unable to find the words to articulate what he was feeling, glancing fearfully between the King and Merlin.

"I'm sorry, we were just practicing the transfiguration spells you taught us. I was trying to make a dog out of the wash basin." He shuffled his feet.

"I can see that." Merlin replied dryly, he held his cheek in one hand as he looked at the rest of them. "SO whose idea was it to enchant the door as well?" Helga meekly held up a hand.

"I'm sorry Mistress. I thought maybe if we hit it with the same spell again, it might turn back."

Merlin sighed. He remembered his own wrangling with this particular spell and the multiple times it had gone wrong.

"Well, at least no one got hurt." He stood up and dusted off his dress, eyes landing on the busted fragments of the wooden door at the other end. "Well, almost no one."

"What were you thinking?" Merlin turned to find Arthur pinning him with a fairly judgemental look in his eyes.

"How could you teach them.." He paused, wondering if he should say the word, but ultimately decided against it. "How could you teach them that while you're here?" Merlin shrugged.

"Where else? If I don't, then it's going to be a free for all in here."

He waved his hand, and watched with amusement as they observed open mouthed, the door come back to life, slowly reconstructed itself from the broken pieces on the floor, adhering itself to the wall in Merlin's doorway.

"I think it's time for the children to get some real rest."

He ushered the children, who looked truly knackered after a long day. He knew from experience how draining using magic could be on the body of a young child. He held one hand on the door, leaning half out, as he thought of something he hadn't before.

"You know, you laughed just now." Gwenivere choked on her own breath, desperately suppressing the laughter at Merlin's comment and Arthur's scowl. He glared at his wife and then leveled it at Merlin.

"What? What are you talking about?" He pointed down the hallway and then poked him in the chest.

"You. You laughed. You had fun. With magic." Arthur's face darkened comically and Gwen muffled her smile in her sleeve.

"You -!"

Merlin quickly slammed the door shut, leaving the King sputtering outside his door, with the Knights wondering if the Mistress _liked_ laughing in the face of death.

. . . . . . . . .

That night, after making sure that they were indeed asleep, Merlin crept out of the castle, intending to go towards the forest. It was a long walk to the clearing, giving him ample time to sort through the nights events. Whatever was hunting within Camelot, was not doing so by accident. It was there by the design of someone and that didn't body well for things. For whatever reason, his wards had failed to keep it out of Camelot and it became very clear to him that he was going to have to go after the source of the magic to figure this out. There was no previous case to which to refer. Neither he nor Gaius had ever seen the type of creature that was killing people and yet it was obvious that it _was_ some kind of beast. Something that was able to kill without physically touching the victim.

He was pulled out of his musing thoughts as he entered the field that he was looking for. It was time. Tonight, he sought an audience with an ancient being.

When he reached the clearing, Merlin took a deep breath and roared, in that guttural tone that he'd learned to affect to call Kilgrrah to him.

Within scant moments of his call, the tell tale flapping of wings alerted him to the arrival of his primeval guest.

The dragon bent his head and huffed a breath over Merlin's form as greeting.

"I see you've yet to shed your female skin young warlock." Merlin colored slightly at the taunt. _Bloody dragon thinks_ _it's_ _funny._

"Shut up. I'm working on it." He sat down heavily, letting his head flop back, and rolling his shoulders.

"Language, Emrys. I've eons on your mere two decades." Merlin waved away the dragon's affronted tone.

"I've had a hard day. I don't understand, Kilgrrah. Why can't I get them to control their magic? Whenever they try to perform magic, it _always_ spirals out of control."

Kilgrrah, lowered his head, resting it on his forelegs, wings wrapped neatly at his sides.

"You speak of the four young sorcerer's you've taken on." He nodded. The dragon was silent for sometime, before it spoke again.

"Water without a pathway is nothing but a flood, Merlin. It often does more harm than good." The midnight blue dragon cocked his head to the side, observing Merlin with his great big eyes. "But water with a path, is a river, is a stream. It is useful and at times, even beautiful."

When Merlin gave him nothing but a confused look, the great beast sighed.

"Perhaps if you found some tool with which to direct the flow of their magic, they might have better luck."

Merlin mulled over the thought, fiddling with the scale in his hands absent mindedly. Kilgrrah sniffed the air suddenly, head coming up, alert.

"What is that, Merlin?" Merlin looked up at him, stopping mid-fumble, barely catching the scale before it hit the ground. He held it up to him.

"What? This? I found it today, in the room of a murdered man, in Arthur's castle. Why do you know what it's from?"

It was the first time Merlin had ever seen the dragon affect the expression he currently wore. It was grim, and foreboding.

"It is the scale of a basilisk, Merlin Emrys. And it means nothing but doom for Camelot."


	19. Clarine

Chapter 19:

"A basilisk?" Merlin hadn't heard the word before, and it sounded as foreign on his tongue. Kilgrrah blinked his huge eyes at him, fixed on the scale.

"It is a creature of great evil, Emrys." Merlin sighed. Whenever Kilgrrah used his Druid name, it was always a bad sign. For him it was synonymous with trouble, it meant that he was definitely going to end up maimed, or unconscious at some point soon.

"An abomination. It shouldn't exist but there always those who experiment with things beyond their power and control. Its creator is most definitely under patronage of the Dark Sorceress and that makes it all the more malevolent.The basalisk is something that cannot be controlled. It is an infant in the creation of beasts, still new and few know of its existence."

"If it's so rare, what's one doing in Camelot? What does it even look like? I need to know what it looks like to fight it." Kilgrrah watched Merlin, as if annoyed at the interruption before continuing.

"The basilisk is a serpent, and dare I say, it may be the King of all Serpents. Gargantuan in size, it's power is fearsome. Few have seen one and lived to tell the tale. Even fewer know of a way to kill the beast. Even I am ignorant of its peculiarities. One thing I do know, young warlock, that its gaze is death. Locking eyes with the creature will result in the immediate death of the onlooker."

Merlin flopped back on to the grass, scrubbing both hands over his face. His hair created a wave of black around him, and he found himself feeling tired. He opened his eyes and saw the deep blue-black sky that blanketed his world. It was dusted with stars that appeared as fine points, dizzying to the more detailed observer. It was parallel to his views on magic.

It was beautiful and useful, but the closer you got, the closer you looked, the more complicated it got. If you were slightly careless, the very same thing could do you irreparable damage. It brought him back to his dilemma with the kids.

As if he'd read his mind, Kilgrrah unfurled and gave a mighty flap of his wings, shaking their surroundings with a great gale of wind. All around, trees shook and branches fell to the ground, great big ones, and small tiny ones.

"What you need, Merlin, is something akin to a scepter." He folded his wings neatly, tucked them into his flanks and settled down again on his haunches, crossing his forelegs and resting his head on them. "But something smaller. One of things that are best for something like the guidance of the ancient power is wood."

Merlin listened silently to the great beast next to him. He had never needed a scepter, but that was because he had a solid grip on the flow of his power from the beginning. Any issues he had had, stemmed from the simple problem of inexperience. Unfortunately, Godric, Salazar, Helga and Rowena struggled from both problems. Not only were they unexperienced, but their magic lacked the centralized flow and instead seemed to overflow from within them. Merlin may have been magic incarnate but they were such vast vessels of magic that they had trouble just keeping in line.

"Look around you, our very surroundings are our saviors. In these woods, you will find everything you need to help your wizardlings. They are young yet, but their impact on Magic, Merlin, will be crucial in the times to come. It is your job to equip them with the tools they need to do this." Merlin got up and began collecting the medium sized sticks, most of them roughly a fingers circumference wide. He would have to whittle them slightly for use, but otherwise he wouldn't have to do much.

"This is Ash." He murmured as he went back to sit next to the dragon, examining the collection of branches he'd gathered. Kilgrrah tilted his head slightly from his side. He rolled the branch in his palm, studying it. It was the length of a small dagger, from his fingertips to just past his wrist. Wider at the bottom and tapered into a point at its tip. In fact, most of them were like this, Merlin must have unknowingly picked up sticks of similar shapes.

"Mm. An very durable choice. In the old world, in times of old magic, Ash was said to be a symbol for sacrifice, for compassion and enlightenment." Merlin set the branches down and laid them out systematically. He set the Ash aside, having chosen it for Helga. She fit the description aptly.

"Hmm, Oak, Walnut and Laurel."

"Laurel speaks well for adolescent Salazar. Ambition and victory."

"What about Walnut and Oak?" Merlin asked, picking up the Laurel branch and placing it carefully next to the Ash."

"Walnut signifies an ancient tie with the old ways. Their magic and wisdom, their way of life. It befits Rowena well. However," Here Kilgrrah paused, raising his head. "Godric, he is a dangerous one, Merlin. Oak is emblem for courage and power and the ability to withstand the test of time and would suit him well. But the boy also displays great affinity for the Holly tree. The rage in him is great and he needs to protect himself and as well others against it. It burns within him, like a simmering fire, low and constant. When it flares, and it will Merlin, it could mean an end to all he holds dear. Even his beloved siblings." He nudged the boughs at Merlin's feet and blew a short breath over them. He hadn't said anything but Merlin was sure that they were enchanted now. Somehow amplified to align themselves with more ease with their prospective owners.

With this last statement, Kilgrah stood, unfolding and shaking his wings out. Merlin scrambled to his feet, nearly stumbling over his own feet.

"Wait! You haven't told me how to defeat this – this basilisk thing!"

The dragon's gravelly voice huffed at him, equally frustrated and amused.

"I have said nothing, because I myself do not know how." Merlin gaped at him.

"If you don't know how to deal with it, how could I possibly go against it?!" The great dragon lifted himself in the air, the trees almost singing in response to his great power. The wind rushing through the boughs created the most ethereal music, in the dead of night, under the cover of a midnight blue silk sky over them, dotted with luminescent diamonds that watched over the creatures that lived below.

" I have told you all you need to know Merlin. In this world, somethings are old, ancient even. But others, they are new, a creation of the evils and greed in your generation, of your era. Thus it falls to your people to find the solution for the misfortunes you've dealt on yourselves."

With that, Kilgrrah flew higher into the sky and across the horizon, quickly becoming nothing more than a quickly disappearing speck in the welkin above.

Disgruntled, Merlin watched him leave, sitting heavily back down on the ground.

"That overgrown lizard always leaves before anything really ever happens. You'd think a giant fire breathing beast like that would actually be of some help, but no he acts like some sage and conveniently flies off."

He looked at the branches he'd chosen, picking them up and bundling them together, starting his way back to the castle, limping half the way to due to the fact that leg seemed to have gone numb from sitting for so long. It was still the dead of night, sunlight was at least a few hours away. Merlin thought of Kilgrrah's words as he walked.

He has great rage in him. Well, he knew that. Anyone with eyes could see that. He himself had been wondering about it, but it became evident that nothing he would do could eradicate it. Godric would have to come to peace with what had happened himself. It was horrific, no one would deny him that, but in the same breath, he would have to learn that holding himself prisoner to the past was the thing that doomed people, left them unable to change and ultimately enabled the cycle of injustice to continue. Change could not take root unless someone would be willing to bury the past and work towards a new future.

He crept back into the castle, skillfully skirting past the guards, realizing that 7 years away hadn't changed the ways they did their rounds. That would have to change, Merlin made a mental note to bring it to Arthur's attention. Anyone who observed them for a day could have easy access once they learned the schedule of the Knights on night duty.

When he slipped back into his room, the four were sleeping, just as he'd left them. Well, barring the fact that Salazar slept like an ape, clutching Godric's back, who even in his sleep, attempted to shake him off. Helga and Rowena had an irritating tendency to shake their covers off in their sleep. It meant that Merlin was forever tucking them in.

He sat back down on his bed, burrowing under the sheets while reaching for the bag that he'd brought with them to Camelot. He realized with a start as he opened the door that he'd been away without notice from the village. Merlin reluctantly crawled back out of bed, grabbing an errant piece of parchment, dipping a prepared quill in the ink well that sat on the desk adjacent to his bed, penning a quick sign for the villagers who appeared to home for treatment.

Merlin quickly apparated, pinning the sign to his door, and gathering the weekly treatments that he usually delivered to the village people, dropping them discreetly on the doorsteps to each home. Once he'd accomplished that task, he quickly disappeared back into the forest and apparated back to the castle, in his room. He fell exhausted on to his bed, tired out by using the Apparation spell in such quick succession. Once he'd got his breath back, he reached into his bag and pulled his collection of books from Grindle and Gaius and opened a newly made book ( a gift from Godric, an ornate leather bound creation that sealed shut on its own) with a magicked quill.

He opened it, reveling in the fresh crispness of a brand new book. For a few moments, he paused, thinking of what to write. He hadn't up until this point decided what he would fill the book with, but now he had a clue. It would be his encounters with magic. The concepts he developed, the ones he encountered and the beasts that he would face. Maybe in the future, his work might aid the dilemma's of a learning sorcerer.

Merlin pressed the page down, and began to write.

There exists, within humans, an inexplicable desire to explore that which is beyond our intellectual grasp. For that reason, many of the things that we encounter in our lifetimes are often monsters of our own creation. One such example, is the Basilisk...

. . . . . . . . . . . .

"Sire, we found another one." Arthur clutched his disarrayed hair in astonishment, looking up from his position on the dais in the great hall. He'd been there since first light, the idea of a monster wandering his Kingdom had been too pressing to allow him a comfortable lie in. Sometime later, a guard had approached him with the news that two servant men had been found dead in the stables of apparently no cause.

Elyan hesitated however, as he relayed the most recent discovery to him, a fact that Arthur didn't miss. He narrowed his eyes at him.

"What? What's different about this one?" Elyan opened his mouth several times, as if unable to find the words to describe it. In the end, he shrugged and stepped aside as two lower rank Knights brought the latest casualty in on a wooden stretcher. The sight brought Arthur instantly to his feet.

"Is...is that normal? For this creature?" Eyes wide, he touched the body on the stretcher and found it rock hard like stone. This was the body of a woman, frozen in a crouched shape, hands cupped around an earthen water vessel, as if she had been kneeling by the river to get water, which is what Arthur suspected to be the case.

"We found her like this, Sire. By the lake on the east side of the Kingdom." Elyan nudged closer and murmured.

"By the Dark Forest. Close to where Madalen was found dead."

"But is she dead?" This was a crucial question here, because she looked nothing like the other corpses, whose post-death pallor had already set in.

"Honestly, I can't say. She has no pulse, but that's because she's rock solid. For all we know, this might not be the beast but the work of a sorcerer." Arthur was shaking head his before Elyan had finished his sentence. He knew that his brother in-law was insinuating that Elladora may have had something to do with this, but he was sure she didn't.

Magic aside, she was a smart woman. She the logical thinking skills of a well experienced councillor and quite simply. It wouldn't make sense for her to launch any kind of attack whilst living in the Castle. Not one like this at least. Killing villagers had no strategic gain. In any case, she was beginning to strike Arthur as a genuinely

At this point the other Knights, having been filled in by Leon about the mornings events, had gathered in the hall. Before he had time to address them however, Elladora walked in, throwing the Hall doors open as if she owned the place. As before, Gwenivere followed her in, which Arthur wondered at momentarily. Within the span of a day, they seemed to have grown inexplicably closer. He circled out from behind the table he stood behind and stepped down.

"Elladora -"

"I FIGURED IT OUT." The woman interrupted him before he could even begin. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Good morning to you too Mistress." She waved the greeting as if to say 'I haven't got time for that'.

"No, listen to me, I've found out what's killing people!" That got Arthur's attention instantly.

"How?" He nodded his head towards the Knights that weren't in his private circle, signaling them to withdraw so as to give him privacy in order to hear Elladora's explanation in its entirety.

"Never mind how, the point is that it's a basilisk."

The name meant absolutely nothing to him and his silence upon Elladora's knowledge alerted her to the fact.

"Oh for pity's sake. A basilisk," she waved her hand in the air and a series of gold lines followed it. They twisted, turned and glittered, until it resembled the shape of a snake. The airborne illustration swirled in the air, sailing in the faces of the Knights who looked on in open-mouthed awe. Arthur whacked Gwaine on the back of the head ("ouch!") to bring him back to reality.

"is a snake, but one borne of forbidden experimentation. Not," she glared at Arthur in defiance, "the work of sorcerer's necessarily, but of anyone who possessed the desire to play with forces beyond their control. It's a thing of enormous size, and capable of killing it's victims just by looking them in the eye. I found this in Bertram's rooms last night. I'm positive this is all the doing of a basilisk." She held up a scale, as large as the palm of his hand, dark black and strangely glittering.

"How do you explain this then?" Percival gestured behind him to the frozen woman that Elladora hadn't realized was there. Some of the excitement seemed to leech from the sorceress as she took in the girl's form. She looked around the hall and saw the other two bodies, covered in white sheets. She met Arthur's gaze in something close to displeasure. The gold serpent quickly disintegrated, falling like a thousand stars at their feet.

"Why wouldn't you tell me there were more victims?" The tone was accusatory and Arthur bristled in response.

"You're forgetting that I am King, and technically, I don't have the obligation to tell you anything. The fact that I do at all, is a privilege. You would do well to remember that Mistress." Elladora glowered at him, biting her lips, as if to restrain herself.

"And you are forgetting that at the current time, I am the only one who can rid you the monster. So I am going to pretend you weren't being the dollop – head that we all know you are, in an effort to work together for once. Then you can go back to being bigoted against warlocks for all I care, but I would appreciate it if you could try to suppress it just long enough to solve this."

Merlin knew this time he may have gone slightly too far here. But he was growing tired of the posturing. He wished in this moment that he could be Merlin. Maybe receiving a dressing down from the warlock he'd banished would set his head straight, he thought, as he felt something deep inside him flicker, like a lick of flame igniting and growing stronger. Arthur blinked in response, for a moment, he could have sworn, he'd seen Merlin in place of Elladora, his eyes sparking with fury. He blinked twice more and saw nothing more than Elladora. I must be going crazy.

"Very well."

That was all the King said. And after a moment of awkward silence, the group resumed the conversation.

"So a basilisk then?" Lancelot prompted, exchanging a side glance with Elyan. Elladora's eyes never left the King's as she responded.

"Yes." She broke the gaze as she turned to the woman that had been found near the river.

"Have you identified her?" The Knights shook their heads.

"We're in the process. We only just found her." Merlin knelt next to her, examining the rigidness of the flesh and yet the fresh pallor of the skin.

"I don't believe she's dead." Their eyes widened and they all rushed to her, examining her the way Elladora was but found they couldn't see what she was seeing.

"Why do you say that?" Leon asked, hazarding a grazing touch on her head, just to test.

"It's just a theory, but she's not displaying any of the usual signs of death. It's more like being frozen." Merlin shook his head as he got up. "I can't be certain, but I would keep her somewhere safe until either myself or Gaius could find a way to cure her."

"Can you, though?" Gwaine questioned. Merlin locked eyes with him, and under Gwen's keen eye, she saw Merlin swallow thickly before answering.

"I hope so."

. . . . . . . .

"Merlin." Merlin whirled around, clapping a hand over Gwenivere's mouth as she ran up behind him with a basket on her arm.

"Gwenivere!" He hissed. Merlin looked surreptitiously, checking for witnesses before yanking her into his chambers. The others barely glanced up as they talked amongst themselves, tidying up their beds and preparing to head down to the tavern for the day. In fact, Merlin was going to join them. He wanted to talk to Lianora, see how she and Madalen's children were holding up.

"Sorry!" She held her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I was just trying to catch up to you." Merlin eyed her suspiciously before sitting on the bed and patting the spot next to him. She sat down and took one of his hands in both of hers.

"I know you were trying to help today, Merlin, but you went too far." Merlin blinked. Whatever he'd expected her to say, it wasn't this.

"I was just trying -"

"I know." She said kindly, patting his arm. "But you have to remember, if you insult him so freely, he will lose respect with his subjects. I understand how you must feel, being discriminated against, you have every right to feel wronged, betrayed, he did betray you, but -"

Merlin colored in indignation. She was making him sound like a sulking child.

"I am not feeling wronged! I'm just trying to wallop some sense into him." Gwenivere shook her head at him.

"No, Merlin. You're also trying to get revenge for the way he made you feel all those years ago. We all want to be the bigger person, but maybe you should try and accept the fact that what Arthur did hurt you, Merlin. You felt hurt that he treated you like that. Maybe you have just as much of a grudge as Arthur does."

Well. This certainly changed things, Merlin thought as he dissolved into dry, heaving sobs, the feelings he'd been holding back finally surfacing in full force.

. . . . . . .

"Honestly, I'm fine Gwenivere." Merlin pushed the maternal hand away as she hovered over him. He hastily wiped at his eyes. He was sincerely embarrassed at the intense show of emotion that had made itself known unwillingly. Godric and Helga had immediately sat down next to him, rubbing his back while Rowena and Salazar had gone curiously silent, choosing to sit at his feet, unsure of what else to do, but stare at him.

He was mortified to say the least.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you! I just wanted – well, I mean I didn't -" Merlin just placed a finger over her lips, a chagrined look on his face.

"It's fine. It's all fine. Let's just pretend it never happened, alright?" She nodded, vigorously and Merlin removed his finger, getting up and shrugging his bag onto his shoulder. He sure as hell wasn't about to leave a magicked bag unattented in the castle. If some poor soul stumbled into it, Merlin would be hard pressed to find a way to get him out.

He motioned for the children to gather their bags, as they prepared to leave. He opened the door swiftly, only to find himself face to face with Gwaine and Percival. The latter's fist was directly on his nose, poised to knock.

"Ah, Mistress." Percival quickly put his hand away, giving a short bow. "I've been instructed to escort you to the Tavern." Merlin frowned, upon seeing this, Gwaine spoke, drawing Merlin's attention.

"He said 'I'm not going to be responsible for that clot-pole getting herself killed. So whether she likes it or not, Percival's going with her.' The end." Gwaine smiled wickedly, and Merlin suddenly found his throat tight and unable of vocalizing his displeasure. He managed a short nod, and muscled past the two, walking briskly down the hallway, hearing Percival's measured steps behind him as well as the pattering of the children. Halfway, he heard Gwaine directing Godric towards the Castle library, an outing that Merlin had sanctioned, with the apparent approval of the Queen.

He was annoyed with himself. All he' d done was allow himself to fully experience the feelings he'd refused to since being thrown out and now he was unnecessarily aware of the roguish Knight. Even worse, was the knowing giggle of the Queen. He doubted that Queen was unaware of Gwaine's feelings. Merlin hadn't needed to confide in her that he knew, he was sure it was obvious in his own mannerisms. He'd all of a sudden, standing at the door, thought, what if I suddenly turned back into myself? Into Merlin? What would he do? He was hit by sudden wave of temptation to do just that, as he turned down the corridor, leading to the front gates, feeling another jump in his center, like the flame was growing more intense.

Gwaine directed Godric down to the library, the young boy following behind the Queen. He glanced back towards Elladora. He fumbled his sword as for a split second he thought he saw a blue shirt and red kerchief round the hallway. He let out a breath, re-adjusting the sword and pressing a cool palm to his eyes.

Get a grip, lad.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Merlin took a deep breath as he pushed the door to the tavern open.

"Oi, how many times do I have to tell you blathering idiots that we don't open until after noon?" Lianora came forcefully stepping out of the swinging doors to the back rooms, wielding a large iron ladle. Merlin raised his arms, in mock fear.

"Oh save me!" She scowled and knocked him in the head with the bottom of the ladle.

"Mock me again, laddie and I'll be making the broth outta your sorry hide instead of the bull's !" The threat was slightly undermined by the grin that she directed him. Merlin grinned right back, shrugging out of his shawl and setting right to work, grabbing a broom and mopping. Salazar took after Rowley, helping him carry the new ale barrels to the drinks side and Rowena and Helga stuck themselves with Della and Earna helping them wash dishes and pitchers.

Percival stood awkwardly in the middle, unsure of what to do, until he saw Lianora up on top of a chair, straining to reach a sack of barley on top of a shelf behind the counter. When she started to tip backwards, he reflexively pushed his hand into the small of her back, stabilizing her, and reached up with the unoccupied hand to pull the sack down.

"Oh whoops. Sorry, nearly lost myself there. Thank you." She laid a palm on his bicep briefly smiling radiantly at him, before hefting the bag under her arm and ducking into the back again. Merlin noted with amusement, the pink tinge that colored his cheek as he stared at the door through which Lianora had vanished. He stabbed at Percival's feet with the broom, making the larger man jump and stumble.

"You may want to close your mouth, Sir Knight, you might catch a few flies like that."

. . . . . . .

Arthur strode down the corridor in the east wing of the castle, perusing a scroll of items that Gaius had handed him. Apparently, he would have to send an errand boy to the southern part of the Kingdom to retrieve a few rare herbs. He was so engrossed in the list that he nearly missed seeing Godric up on a step ladder in the royal library.

"Hello, Godric, was it?"

Godric look down and Arthur could have sworn he'd seen the younger boy's lip curl, but he blinked and it was gone.

"Afternoon, Your Highness."

"I didn't take you much for the scholarly type. Figured you were a bit more like me with that body. Bit more rough and tumble." Arthur leaned on the bookshelf and watched as Godric thumbed through the books on the second to highest rung.

"Well, it appears I happen to be a bit of both, Sire." This was said with a rather large of cynicism, couldn't be as easily ignored.

"You don't like me very much, do you Godric?" Arthur stated, wielding a discerning eye over the young warlock.

"Well, you are the reason that my siblings and I have no parents to speak of."

Arthur worked for a few moments, to figure out how to respond to that.

"What are you looking for?" Arthur would have to come back to that point later. For the moment, the only thing he could think of was that he couldn't exactly tell the boy he was wrong. After all, he wasn't wrong, he was more than right.

"A history of Camelot. Preferrably a family tree or something else of that nature." Arthur was surprised. Why he would he want that?

"A history on Camelot or of its rulers?" He queried curiously. Every one of Elladora's children were an enigma. Godric was no different.

"They say you should know your enemies, don't they?" The boy said pointedly, continuing his rifling through the books.

"Godric. My father did what he thought was necessary, he was tricked into a spell that took my mother's life." He didn't know why he was trying to argue common sense with an adolescent boy, but for whatever reason, he didn't want the boy to misunderstand the reason.

"And that sanctions the mass murder of a people?" Godric's eyes flashed and he finally turned to give his full attention to the King at his side. "The act of one sorceress, who may not have known that the spell would take Lady Ygraine's life, dooms us all?" The King was taken aback at the sudden vehemence in his voice. It sounded like Godric had been holding in this argument for a long time.

"Your people slaughtered us, like cattle, for the actions of one. Should I have retaliated for the murder of my aunt by taking the lives of every villager that had a hand in her death? And I should remind you that everyone in my village took part. The rules King Uther put in place made it so that all one would have to do was levy the charge of witchcraft at someone. Even if the charge didn't stick, the taint of the accusation would follow them everywhere. People who were singled out simply for being different died, Your Highness. You tell me, what kind of retribution did your father seek? Had it been a nameless servant that died, in exchange for your life, would he have cared? Would the ban on magic exist?"

Godric spat the last sentence out, grabbing a book off the shelf and hopped off. He wavered slightly as he passed Arthur.

"I don't mean to place the blame at your feet, Sire, but I wish you would think before condemning us all. At least long enough to wonder whether we truly deserve to die as your Father decreed."

Then he was gone, and Arthur was left staring gobsmacked at the place the boy had occupied. He sat down, burdened, on the stool, cradling his head in his hands. He briefly let his heart wish, I wish Merlin was here, before he reigned himself in.

"Arthur?" Gwenivere stood in the doorway, carrying a basket on her arm. Arthur got up and wordlessly enveloped her in a hug, his chin resting on her head. She sank into his embrace, an unusual display of affection for midday.

"What are you doing? Where's Godric? I wanted to give him some food to take to the Tavern." Arthur sighed, turning his head to place his cheek where his chin had been.

"That family seems to excel in confounding me."

"Hm?"

"Nothing. It's nothing."

. . . . . . . . .

In the back recesses of the castle, a dagger scraped against the damp stone wall, scoring a line tinted with red. Hands stained red held the hilt, a girl with matted, tangled hair, shredded dress sang brokenly, gleefully, deranged. Her head sang with the words, blood of a virgin, screams of the pure. At the far end of the stone hallway she staggered down, she sang, gaily.

"Ill winds mark its fearsome flight,

And autumn branches creak with fright.

The landscape turns to ashen crumbs,

When something wicked this way comes."

Across the wall, a phrase was scrawled, in dripping crimson liquid.

The Dark one comes and with her she brings the solemn beat of death's drums.

Beneath the prophecy, lay a warning, maidenly, even in death. Eyes of sapphires and hair spun like gold thread, stained from the blood seeping from her slashed throat.

Clarine.

 **. . . . . . . . . .**

 **A/N:**

Wow. That took a turn for the morbid.  
The song that Penelope's singing, above, is actually a poem by Ray Bradbury  
called "Something Wicked This Way Comes".  
It's wonderfully dark and pretty.

So do tell me how I did :)  
Thank you for the reviews, I never thought this would be liked!

Thank you for proving me wrong **:)**


	20. Scared

**A/N:** Back again with a looooong one.

Do be sure to comment and tell what you thought:)

I think this will be maybe 5 or 6 chapters more. So do comment and tell me if theres anything i havent covered, in case I've forgotten.

Happy reading!

 **Chapter 20: Scared**

Merlin wasn't generally a man for gossip, but he found it hard to resist the urge in telling Gwenivere about the brief interaction between Lianora and Percival. It had lasted all of 5 seconds, and yet the bear of a man looked like he'd been bowled over, mouth hanging open with his cheeks tinged pink. He'd snapped it shut of course, when Merlin had blithely pointed out that his mouth was open wide enough to double as a fly catcher.

He'd continued on his cleaning journey around the tavern, only looking up briefly as Godric came in. He would have started on the mopping were it not for the fact that Godric had sat himself down at a table in front of Merlin, staring at the books he'd brought with him, with a look that Merlin might have said was trepidation if he didn't know Godric as well as he did. No, the look that he wore currently was more of a nervous one. One he usually had when he'd done something that he knew Merlin would chew him out for.

Merlin leaned on the back of the chair next to Godric, at the rectangular table, elbows braced at the top.

"So, how was your trip to the Castle library? Find what you were looking for?" Godric shifted, not quite meeting his eyes, casually flipping a book open, and flicking through.

"Yes." Merlin stayed silent, eyebrow raised, knowing more was coming. "King Arthur was there too."

"Hm."

"I might have maybe sort of called him a murderer. Indirectly." Godric said all this in a rush and flinched as Merlin's face blanched, elbows slipping off the back of the chair to gape at the boy in front of him.

"You did what?!" He yelped, sitting himself down next to the boy. He wasn't very well going to start yelling, that never solved the problem.

"I didn't say anything to him directly!" Godric said defensively, under the weight of Merlin's incredulous gaze.

"Godric! He's the King of Camelot! You can't just go mouthing off at him!" Merlin was vaguely aware that Percival, who, at Lianora's request had taken to bringing in the firewood for the large cooking pots in the back. Though now, he'd paused in the middle of putting a particular pile to listen to Godric's confession to Merlin.

"You do it all the time!" Godric protested, his expression turning mutinous. Merlin was suddenly seeing the wisdom of Gwenivere's words yesterday. His actions, in front of his children, towards Arthur and his authority as King were undermining their opinion of him. In their eyes, because he didn't show Arthur the proper deference, they found it easy to react to him the same way.

"Okay," He rubbed a hand over his face, as he contemplated how to go about this. He remembered his own life at 14, when the other older men in Ealdor, like the village elder, kept trying to tell him what to do about his life and with his mother. He hadn't taken it well, and it looked like Godric was experiencing the same phenomenon. Merlin pushed his curled bushy hair away from his face and looked Godric in the eyes.

"Look, I know Arthur and our people don't exactly see eye to eye, but you can't go pinning Uther's crimes on him." Godric looked at him indignantly.

"I didn't! I just, I just asked him why he was so sure King Uther did the right thing. Why Nimueh's stupid spell has to be the reason that all of us have to die?" Merlin stared at the brunette boy, stumped. That was a topic even he'd hesitated bringing up in front of Arthur, lest he remember the accusations Ygraine's ghost had leveled at her husband, that he'd known the spell would take her life, and that he chosen to go ahead with it regardless. Children were most definitely braver than adults. Still, he would have to impress on Godric the idea of authority, Arthur's in particular.

"Godric, The King isn't someone to be trifled with. We stay in the palace, we stay alive right now, because he allows it. Just because he's overlooking our...peculiarities, doesn't mean he's impervious to our behavior. We're already on thin ice because of the stunt you four pulled last night with the washtub." Godric had the grace to wince at the reminder of last night's fiasco.

"Why are you so sure he's going to help us? That he's going to bring magic back?" Merlin thought about it, odd as it was, to do so in the middle of a tavern at midday. Was it because of the prophecy? That Arthur was supposed to do it? Even as he considered them, he dismissed the thought almost simultaneously as the reason for his faith in the man. The simple fact was that Merlin trusted the man that Arthur was. Even if he was bigoted towards the concept of magic and was generally hostile towards it, Merlin knew it was nothing more than the product of his father's teachings. A boy who grew up in an environment that told him one thing could not easily abandon it as an adult simply because someone asked it of him. No, Arthur would have to consciously see that magic meant him no harm, unlike Uther's paranoid convictions.

Well, perhaps not so paranoid. After all, his ban on sorcery had been the direct cause of most if not all the assassination attempts and coups that they had gone through during Merlin's time serving at the castle.

"I'm sure, Godric," Merlin said, putting a hand on the boy's arm, the one that clutched his book now, unknowingly tight. "I'm sure because I know the man he is, the man he can be. He will come to see reason. He just needs to see magic as it is, and not as he was taught to see it. You must think, that just as you have grown, thinking of King Arthur to be a certain type of man, prone to certain behavior, so too, does he have a notion of the behaviors of our people. He has seen nothing aside from violence. Every warlock, sorcerer and sorceress that he's ever crossed paths with, have tried to kill him. You cannot fault a man for becoming wary of the animal that has bit him more than once. His own half-sister to his knowledge, has turned against him simply because of magic."

Merlin sat back , noting that Percival had yet to move from his spot by the firewood. He rolled his eyes, clearly he'd been sent more as a keeper than an escort.

"Sir Percival, I believe we're going to need more than four logs to light the fire, if you'd be so kind as to get them." Percival started, stubbing his toe on the log at his feet, Merlin saw him resist the urge to yell in pain and instead nod curtly and limp out the back to gather more wood. Merlin got up and patted Godric lightly on the back.

"Well, no harm done I suppose. If he'd truly been angry, he'd either have thrown you in the stocks, or sent for me. Seeing as he's done niether, you'd better thank your lucky stars and treat him with more respect the next time you see him." Seeing Godric about to complain, Merlin gave him a disapproving look.

"Godric, I'm not asking. If anything, pure etiquette requires us to award him respect. You can mouth off once we're not staying in the castle. I don't want to have to sleep with one eye open at night because of you thank you very much. Now go find Rowley and Salazar. That poor boy will have his hands full with him." Merlin winced as a bout of squawks emitted from the back ale room, followed by a series of doves coming out the room in droves.

"See?" Merlin jerked a head in the direction of the mess, the squawks now accompanied by the yelps of the two boys as they attempted to reign them in. Godric rolled his eyes and got up, handing the books to Merlin and bounding into the room.

Merlin watched him run in, then grabbed his bag off the table, opening it to slide the books in, only to see the four wands that Kilgrrah had given him the previous night. He'd almost forgotten. Merlin resolved to give them the wands at their next opportunity to learn a new skill. Maybe this time he'd teach them deflection spells.

"Mistress!" Merlin looked up to see Rowena, Earna and Helga behind the tavern counter, they'd created some kind of tower with the dishes in an effort to magically wash them. Now, however, they towered over them and listed from side to side, threatening to fall over. As the girls ran around trying to find out a way to stabilize it, Della was staring in horror, glancing back every so often, worried that Lianora would come out of the back to investigate the commotion, going slack jawed at the sight.

Merlin threw the books in the bag and then raced over to help Rowena and the other girls, catching the dishes just before they fell to the floor. With a swish of his hand, the plates, bowls and mugs flew to their respective cabinets on the wall, stacking themselves neatly together. Merlin turned to look at the girls, eyebrow raised, they squeaked slightly in fear before running off in opposite directions, busying themselves in other endeavors.

Merlin shook his head as they scattered, Lianora sauntered over to nudge him with her shoulder.

"Hey."

"Hm?"

"Are they always like this?"

"Like what?"

"A foursome of uncontrolled terror."

Merlin sighed, hand to his cheek, watching Godric and Rowley roll an ale barrel to add to the pile with the help of magic, even though he'd just told them not to.

"All the time, Lianora, all the time. If I could grow old, I would have by this point."

. . . . . . . . .

It was well past sundown when Merlin and the children went back to the castle. The tavern was in full swing, with many customers pouring in, all of the regulars offering Lianora their heartfelt condolences in Madalen's passing. It had seriously hurt Merlin's heart to see the smile on Lianora's face, pained as it was. But it was also what he admired about her. She wasn't ashamed to be seen in her grief, she wasn't ashamed of her emotions. She wore them proudly on her sleeve and was unapologetic. It made Merlin all the more self conscious that he couldn't do the same.

They entered the castle, with Merlin leading the way to their chambers, nodding in greeting to each of the guards as they passed. Merlin saw the cheeks of the man who guarded his door go pink and he internally rolled his eyes.

Not again. He made a mental note to cast a muffling spell and a concealment spell on the panels in the door, lest he have a peeping problem, again. It certainly wasn't a new issue he'd had. He remembered briefly a group of entertainers that had passed through Carhaix during his third year of living in border village.

The group had seemed harmless enough at first, meeting him in the village and exchanging pleasantries with him whilst he'd gone around making his rounds, delivering his concoctions to the people who had ordered them and taking new requests. Merlin had thought them unusually forward but shrugged it off as being a trait of a young man with a rather active libido. He'd hadn't thought about them again until later that night when he had put the younger of the children to bed and Godric and Rowena were staying up to help in the reorganizing of the herbs they'd collected and bought that had just glanced up as he got up from the floor to put some sage in a box on the wall, out the window and seen the entire band of them just camped outside his home, peering inside with a glorified slab of glass.

Merlin had done the only thing he could think of. He marched to his door, wrenched it open, picked up the nearest hefty stone he could see, and used his magic to lob it at the boy, making sure it would strike with accuracy. He'd bowled right over and Merlin had yelled in his most threatening voice.

"You'd better be gone by the time I close this door, or I'll turn the lot of you into toads!"

Merlin had never seen a group of people disperse so fast. He helped Rowena and Helga gather their skirts, seeing them have a difficult time get up the steps with all that fabric constantly underfoot. He resolved to design a dress that wouldn't be such a hassle to wear. He'd certainly had enough of them, that was for sure. 7 years of wearing them had given him a new appreciation in the difficulties of living life as a woman.

Just as he was opening the door, Elyan appeared from the hallway adjacent to the one they were Iin.

"Ah, Mistress. I've been looking for you."

"Me? Why?" Merlin paused in the middle of ushering the last of them in, Godric stubbornly sticking his head out of the door to see what Elyan wanted.

"Gaius and Arthur needed to speak about the woman from this morning." Merlin frowned, he'd been planning on going to check on the wards. The fact that something was in the castle meant that someone had tampered with the newest one. The older ones couldn't be broken, which meant someone must have been watching him while he'd reinforced it, and then sabotaged it. But then he also needed to speak with Gaius about his discovery of the nature of the beast. He turned to Godric, knowing he was going to face resistence from him too. He wouldn't want to be kept from what was really happening either. His only option was to give them a lesson to practice.

"Godric."

"Yes, Mistress?" Godric was rolling his eyes when he thought Merlin couldn't see him.

"Oh quit rolling your eyes, and listen." The boy flushed involuntarily. " I want you to practice levitation spells okay? Their in the second book that Gaius gave me, the one with the Gryffin illustration on the cover."

That instruction significantly brightened Godric's expression and he all but slammed the door in a bid to get to the books. Merlin poked his head in after him.

"Make sure you teach the others as well, Godric!"

"Yes Mistress!"

Merlin shook his head, just knowing that something was bound to go wrong. But until it did, he couldn't exactly do anything about it. He turned and motioned for Elyan to lead the way to Gaius's chambers, nevermind that he knew exactly where to go, but it would be a little difficult to explain why he knew his way around the castle so well despite only being here for two days.

"So," Elyan hedged, after two minutes of silent walking. Merlin had his hands clasped behind his back, looking around him, observing how everything appeared the same and yet was entirely different.

"So?"

"My father was executed for colluding with a sorcerer." The statement, said blandly on purpose Merlin suspected, startled him. He hadn't thought of Tom in a long time. This had been back before Morgana had turned her back on them and he still remembered the horrified fury on her face as her lady-in-waiting sobbed while his body was carried off by guards in front of them. Up until this point, Morgana hadn't actually believe Uther of being capable of executing someone just for being implicated in a sorcerer's plot, especially when he hadn't been aware of it. But he had done it, and in hindsight, maybe that had cemented Morgana's opinion of her birth father, as cold-blooded and cruel and given her the fuel she needed to turn to the dark ways that now defined her.

Sometimes, Merlin wondered what would have become of Morgana had he simply tried to help her. To tell her that they were both cut from the same cloth.

"I see. I'm sorry for you loss." Elyan shook his head.

"It's not something anyone aside from Uther can be sorry for." Merlin couldn't have agreed more. While he could argue in Arthur's defense for having not abolishing the laws on sorcery yet he couldn't defend the previous King with his laws that had killed countless people, regardless of their ability in magic.

"I just wonder, what about magic makes you determined to practice it? All its ever done is kill people."

"That's not true. Magic isn't something that harms." At Elyan's raised eyebrow, Merlin amended his statement.

"Listen, like I've said before. Magic, sorcery, it's just a tool. The ability is a reflection of the one who uses it. A person like Morgana, who's only interested in revenge and violence, her magic will seek only to harm. But someone like Gaius, who you as you know can practice sorcery but swore not to under Uther's reign, his magic has only ever healed those he's used it on." Merlin shrugged, "It's honestly just matter of perception. If you choose to, you can villify anything. I can call all of you nothing better than a band of murderers, though it would be the farthest thing from the truth. I could even say, that being a black smith, a maker of weapons, is a crime, simply because they supply mercenaries with a means to kill people. But we both know that would be wrong."

By now, they were descending the stair to enter the long hallway at the end of which lay Gaius's chambers.

"And you feel, because of your beliefs that magic isn't harmful?" Merlin stopped momentarily to slip his shoes off, shaking a stone out of it while bracing his other hand on the stone wall.

"Well, ask yourself, did Merlin ever harm anyone? What was his role here? What did he spend his days doing? Before Arthur was his friend, he was fondest of Gwenivere. In fact, I believe that still maybe the case." Merlin opened the door to Gaius's chambers to find Arthur and the physician waiting for him. He glanced back at Elyan who inclined his head in farewell and started back down the hallway, a contemplative look on his face.

"Evening Elladora, how is the taverness doing?" Arthur asked, from his position, pacing at the fireplace. Merlin set his bag down on the work table, and stretched his fingers.

"Fine enough, I should think. It's only been two days since Madalen died, and considering we haven't given her her sister's body back yet, she's coping rather well." Arthur sighed, steepling his fingers against his mouth, pressing the tip under his nose. He looked tired, the bags under his eyes were darkening and the whites of his eyes were beginning to look bloodshot. Clearly the events of the last two days had taken their toll. Merlin supposed the same look was probably on his face as well, run haggard by worries of entirely different natures yet concerned about the same thing.

"I wish I could finish this sooner, but I need to be sure of what's happening. Gaius has been researching all day, after I told him your description of the beast, and he thinks he's found something." The King gestured to Gaius who cleared his throat and pushed a leather bound book towards Merlin. He picked it up to find an illustration of a colossal serpent, it was done in ink, but whoever had drawn it was masterful, in their depiction of the creature.

"You said it was a basilisk, am I correct?" Merlin nodded without taking his eyes off the image.

"I did. I found this in Bertram's room." He fished the scale out of his bag on the table, and handed it to Gaius who examined with a practiced physician's eye.

"Hmm, yes. I believe your identification was correct. I didn't have anything on it in our vaults, so I went out, to ask if anyone knew anything."

Arthur sat up a little straighter, as if the idea of Gaius venturing out to acquire information was unfathomable. Gaius didn't miss the look and said matter – of- factly;

"I wasn't always an old man, Sire, I had my ways of getting information, and in my old ways, I have even better ones." He shot Merlin a smile, and continued.

"As far as I can tell, from the book that I got from another man in the town, this thing is the creation of a mad man by the name of Herpo the Foul. He's of Greek origin, and they say he is allied with the darkest of wizards. This is a man that is capable of many things, Arthur and the breeding of the basilisk is only the beginning."

"So, he created them?" Gaius nodded. "How?" Merlin asked, perplexed. He'd had a hard enough time just making a dog out of an illustration and other warlocks were out creating entirely new beings.

"That particular part of his experiments with dark magic is still unclear, but he is not to be trifled with and niether are his creations. This is a man who has mastered the ability to tear his soul into different pieces." When Arthur and Merlin gave him similar, uncomprehending stares, Gaius clarified to drive the point home.

"That would mean that even if you killed his body, you couldn't kill him, simply because part of his soul was elsewhere. He would be immortal until someone could kill all remnants of his soul."

The silence that followed this realization was thick with meaning for all of them.

"Do you have any evidence that this Herpo fellow, is involved with Morgana?" Gauis shook his head in the negative.

"Not as far as I can tell. I do not believe she is aware that he has this ability, I do not think it would be something that he would advertise. Instead, I believe their relationship was strictly in the realm of procuring the beast. Beyond that, there seems to be no association."

Whatever they would have said next was interrupted at the sound of knocking on Gaius's door. Merlin got up off the corner of the table where he leaning and opened the door to see Lancelot, supporting the limp figure of Gwaine.

"What happened?" The King started forward at the sight of his Knight. Before Lancelot could explain, Gwaine looked up briefly and let out a reverberating belch in Merlin's face. The stench nearly knocked Merlin over.

"Whew," He waved a hand in front of his face to disperse the foul air. "How long has he been drinking to get breath that putrid!" He went to Gwaine's other side, supporting his weight and removing some of the burden from the mild mannered Knight.

"I'm not sure to be honest. I was on my way back from patrol, and Lianora flagged me down, told me that Gwaine was blacked out on the table and she wanted to close for the night. I had no choice to drag his drunk arse down here. Also," Lancelot pushed the hair on Gwaine's forehead back to reveal a gash on it.

"I think he hit his head when he passed out. I brought him here in case it turned out to be more serious than it looks."

Arthur looked exasperated as Merlin and Lancelot moved to the back room in Gaius's quarters. Merlin almost dropped the Knight as he realized they were moving to put him in his old room. If Lancelot noticed the slight tremor in the hand of the Lady that was helping him, he chose not to comment, instead grunting in effort as they dumped the long haired man on the bed in a heap.

Gaius bustled in after them, door swinging shut behind him and the King. He had brought in a vial with him which he poured into the sleeping man's mouth.

"A draught to cure the headache he will most definitely experience in the morning. The cut isn't very large, and certainly there will be problems with it as far as I can tell."

"Merlin." The slurred name had them all looking down at Gwaine's prone form on the small bed. "Merlin... don't ...don't go. I need to tell...you. I need to say...I need..."

Merlin swallowed thickly. Being in his room, seeing Gwaine, reminiscent of the first time he'd run into to wickedly impish man made his cheeks flush, knowing what it was that Gwaine was trying to tell him. He didn't know for sure if Gwaine still loved him, but the idea of it made something happen to his stomach, made it feel like it was fluttering uncontrollably, almost painfully.

He happened to catch a quick glimpse of Arthur's face as he turned away from Gwaine's words. Arthur looked almost...guilty, as he regarded Gwaine. Gaius hmp'd at Gwaine's drunk behavior and ushered the three of them towards the door.

Lancelot tried to open the door and found it stuck, despite the door only jostling stubbornly in place. Merlin nudged Lancelot's hand aside and grabbed the handle, wrenching it up slightly before pulling the door handle out somewhat towards him.

"You have to pull it up before you pull it out. This thing always sticks." There was a flash of confusion in Lancelot's eyes, though Merlin didn't notice the slip until Gaius deliberately stepped on his toes.

"OUCH!" He hopped around, glaring at the physician, before seeing his expression.

"I mean, it's a fairly common trick. Especially with doors like that." He offered as an explanation. Lancelot eyed him briefly before murmuring something quietly to the King and then bidding them all goodnight, his gaze lingering on Merlin even as he closed the door.

"Well. We know that Morgana is behind this now. The next thing to do is to find out how she got that thing inside and who's helping it? Because someone is helping it, no beast could have tacked that dagger through Bertram like that."

Merlin rolled his shoulders, feeling the tightness in them from how tense the day had been.

"No, you're right. It has to have someone in the city, probably someone in the Castle, helping it. If we find that person, we'll find out how Morgana got it in."

Gaius sat down heavily at his workbench, running a hand over his face.

"This beast is not to be trivialized, Sire. It may be of new origin, but its instincts are as ancient as the ways of mankind. It thirsts for blood and is at the command of one who does not hesitate to kill. Whatever method you choose to flush it out, just remember that it will not do so quietly."

Arthur offered Gaius a mirthless look as he walked towards the door and held it open.

"I've seen my share of beasts that want to kill me, Gaius, it won't be the first or the last. I'm sure we'll figure something out. In the meantime, why don't you get some rest, when that buffoon wakes up, please tell him that he's to report to me at the training yard at noon." The elderly physician laughed, knowing that the potential headache he would have tomorrow would be the least of his worries.

"Gaius, try to get some rest. If the most knowledgeable of us is practically comatose with sleep deprivation then where would that leave us?"

The healer gave them a half hearted wave in response as they closed the door and walked back out the room and down the hallway to the west wing of the castle. By now, the moon was high in the sky, Merlin saw as they passed a narrow window in the staircase leading up to the castle.

"You told me, once back then, that you knew of Merlin." Arthur said conversationally, the forced calm in his voice very telling of how much tension he was holding back.

"I did." Merlin replied evenly, wondering what more was left to say of the topic.

"Have you.." Arthur hesitated, as if wondering whether to ask him anything at all. Fortunately for Merlin's curiosity, Arthur decided to continue. "Have you..heard from him? Seen him at all?"

Merlin was momentarily stumped, unsure if he wanted to say yes or no. After wrestling with the concept, he decided to give him as much of the truth as he could. He wouldn't lie to Arthur, not anymore.

"I have."

"You've seen him?" The King prompted. "Is he.." Well, that sounds odd. To ask if he's well. "How is he?"

"He's-"Merlin rounded the corner in the last turn of the stairs, his skirts trailing behind him. "He's fine. As he can be, being exiled and all." The sentence was worth the flinch it caused Arthur.

"He, he holds a grudge does he then?" As Arthur came up the stairs landing Merlin turned to face him.

"Well, wouldn't you, being turned out of your home for something you couldn't help?" Arthur held his gaze uncomfortably.

"He was a practitioner of sorcery, and he knew how I felt about it. Yet he still continued, right under my nose." Merlin turned away, breaking eye contact and walked down the corridor again, crossing from the east side of the castle to the west.

"I didn't learn magic you know."

"Excuse me?"

"I didn't 'learn' sorcery, neither did Merlin, as you seem to think."

"Well, I would think he would have to. These things don't exactly come naturally. That's what makes it an abomination."

"Except that Merlin and I both had our abilities from birth."

Arthur paused in walking, stopping in the torch lit corridor, Elladora's form walking in front and then stopping as she realized the King wasn't following. Her dress, a flighty thing make of pale pink cotton, swirled around her as she regarded him curiously.

"You truly believe he betrayed you then? That he chose that path freely? Haven't you thought that maybe he had no choice, since he was born with it? That maybe, since he was always so loyal to you, maybe the magic might not be a bad thing." Arthur made an imperceptible movement of his head, indicating that he'd never thought about the possibility.

"I don't know what to think. One minute he was Merlin, the ignorant buffoon that was my manservant and," The King said softly. " my friend." Then he quickly removed the vulnerability in his voice and continued. "Then he became a sorcerer and I don't know who he is anymore."

"Merlin would die for you, Arthur. A thousand times over and over again, before he would willingly hurt you. You know that as well as I do!" Merlin said it fiercely, somewhat startling Arthur with his vehemence.

"How can you know?" Arthur suddenly returned, equally vehement. "Why does he hold me in such high regard? Why me?"

Merlin drew himself up to his full height, returning everything that Arthur gave him twofold. Eyes sparking he was determined not to have his own deeds drowned out by the irrational paranoia that magic seemed to bring out in people.

"Because you are Merlin's friend, Merlin's King and the Once and Future King of Albion. He knew that one day you would accept Magic and he understands even now, that you do not understand magic so he waits. Waits for the day that you will." Arthur was silent, breathing quickly and labored. He leaned against the wall.

"I wish -" Arthur swallowed, as if the words were hard to say. Like he couldn't say them. "I wish I could talk to him. Just once. If he would see me."

Merlin pretended not to see the moisture swimming in the King's eyes.

. . . . . .

When Merlin returned to his room, plagued by thoughts of Arthur's face as he'd ashamedly wished for a second chance.

"Salazar, put me down!" He quickly opened the door and stepped inside to see Rowena flattened against the ceiling of their chamber practically beside herself in anger. Helga was tugging on Salazar's wrist, begging him to take her down, while Godric had his own hand aimed at Rowena, chanting a levitation spell in case his brother's spell weakened.

"Ooooh Salazar, I'll get you, you horrid, rotten, vile boy! Just you wait!"

The blonde haired boy did a cheeky dance below her, singsonging his reply.

"Rowena is a stinky ol'bat. A big ol' meanie brat."

"A brat, huh?"

Salazar jumped and dropped his hand guiltily to his side, whirling around. Rowena shrieked as she plummeted to the ground, Merlin didn't have to do anything to save her, though he was prepared to since Godric still had his spell on her. He caught her in mid fall, and lowered her gently to the floor. As soon as she touched down however, she descended on Salazar in a fury, kicking and hitting.

It took all of them to pull the two apart.

"That is enough!" Merlin's voice, loud and thunderous stopped both in their tracks. They looked very contritely at her. "What has gotten into you two? Why on earth did you have Rowena pinned to the ceiling, and Rowena, is that how I've taught you? To respond to conflict with violence?" Rowena and Salazar scuffed their feet on the floor, not meeting his eyes. Merlin put a hand to his hip, the other on his face, closing his eyes.

Clearly, he wasn't going to be sleeping any time soon.

. . . . . . . .

When all was said and done, it was well past midnight. Merlin sat exhausted at the edge of his bed. He kept thinking back to Arthur and his desire to speak to him. Then he thought of Gwaine, and the words he wanted to say.

There was precious little they could say, especially when Merlin stood before them as a woman. Merlin got up and walked to the mirror that hung on the wall nearest to the door. He saw in it, the face of a woman. A woman he had come to accept as himself.

His reflection stared back at him, eyes blue with porcelain skin. His cheeks angular and a long neck, white and smooth. His face was ensconced by the thick mane of hair that surrounded it, rich and black. There was just the one splash of color to accentuate his pale face and that was in the plush peach of his lips.

The more Merlin looked, the more he realized that this wasn't him. No matter how much he wanted to be, he couldn't be Elladora forever. He closed his eyes, and thought of himself. Before being exiled, of his loyalty to Arthur, of his place with Gaius, of his friendship with Gwenievere.

Merlin felt hot, the sweat pooling at his armpits and beading on his brow. He cracked an eye open, seeing with shock, his own face for the first time in 7 years. His cheeks looked flushed red with the effort to lift the enchantment he'd placed on himself, his hair, unruly before, was now longer and even unrulier. His eyes blinked disbelievingly at himself, and Merlin allowed the ghost of a smile to stretch across his lips. He raised his hands and was almost confused to not see the feminine, thin and slender hands that had been his for so long. It was disconcerting to see the image of his face and realize how alien it had become to him.

"Elladora? Are you awake? There's something you need to see." Arthur's voice sounded at the door, whispered in an attempt not to wake the children. Merlin gasped as he slammed the enchantment back down, squeezing his eyes shut and collapsing in front of the mirror, rattling the vanity as he went down.

"Elladora? Are you alright?" Arthur's voice sounded more concerned now. Merlin turned so that his back was against the vanity, he raised his shaking hand to his face, seeing it was now again the thin hand of a woman and clenched it into a fist, lightly hitting his forehead.

I'm scared. I'm too scared to go back. I can't. _I can't_

"Elladora!" His voice was louder now, and Merlin could hear him telling the guards to force the door open. Merlin quickly forced himself to speak, through the sweat chilled tremors that wracked his body.

"It's-" He swallowed, wetting his throat and tried it again. "It's alright Arthur. I just fell down. I'll be right out."

He stumbled to his feet and used his hands to comb through his hair, padding over to the door and drawing the latch back to unlock it.

"What is it?" Arthur eyed her suspiciously for a moment, all traces of his previous helplessness gone. Right now, he was King Arthur, not the man who'd just wanted to talk to his friend.

"We found another body."

"Another one?"

"Yes. Except this one was definitely killed by a person. This wasn't the doing of a basilisk." Merlin watched him expectantly for more information, but found him oddly tight lipped. He sighed and stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

"Well, lead the way then."

And if Arthur saw the redness of his eyes, the tear streaks on his cheek, or the way Merlin clutched and unclutched the fabric of his dress, he wisely chose not to comment.


	21. Close

**A/N:** CHAPTER 21. HOOPLAH. Never thought it would be this long. This thing is a damn beast.

I love love this. I am enjoying writing this so much, and it means even more when I realize that other people are interested in it too! So thank you, thank you for letting me write this! Please comment and tell me what you thought! I'd be much obliged.

 **Chapter 21: Close**

Gwenivere lay on her side, rubbing her stomach. Clearly, something she'd eaten at dinner was _not_ agreeing with her. It was dark in the chamber that she shared with Arthur, it was well past midnight and she knew, as she lay in the wide bed by herself, that most likely her husband wouldn't come to bed for a long time. Whatever had made a hunting ground out of their home was keeping Arthur up at all hours of the night and occupied entirely during the day. Even when he tried to forget about it for during meals, Gwenivere could see the wheels in his mind turning constantly, thinking about the different possibilities for what was happening.

As Queen, she knew she ought to be more involved in the proceedings, but how could she when Arthur insisted that she stay out of it. It was definitely unfair, especially since Merlin – well, Elladora – was a woman and she was allowed to be present for all of it.

Merlin. She honestly hadn't thought she would see him again and the thought and very nearly torn her and Arthur apart, though she would never admit it out loud. She knew that Merlin was perhaps the kindest soul she'd ever met, but even kind people could get angry. That Merlin was willing to put his differences with Arthur aside and try to help them out of this was mind boggling to her. It was a level of selflessness that was unheard of.

Then there were the children that he had adopted. Obviously they weren't biologically his, the fact that he was a woman aside, the timing was all wrong. The four of them struck her as fundamentally _different_ from other children. The fact that they all possessed magic was just one of the many things that struck her as special. She just knew, in her soul, that these 4 would do something monumental. Something that might the change the world.

Before she had time to dwell on that thought though, even in her half-asleep mind, she became aware of something being different in her chambers. The air felt palpable and _tense._ At first, she ignored it, bundling down further into her blankets for warmth and watching the moon in the sky from her window. As she watched the window however, Gwenivere saw something move ever so slightly in the far corner of her room.

If she had had Arthur's knack for tactical strategizing, she would have known that making them aware that she knew of their presence was probably her biggest mistake. But Gwenivere, not knowing this, sat up quickly, the blankets falling off her forgotten. She peered around the dark room, before so comforting and now, every shadow was a possible threat.

Suddenly, something shoved her down onto the bed, smothering her scream of surprise.

* * *

If he remembered the layout of the castle properly, then Merlin was fairly sure that Arthur was taking him to the main kitchen cellar. Merlin remembered it well, he knew that none of the maids liked going down there, for though it was essentially a large room with many smaller rooms inside, each for storing a different kind of food, it felt cold, dank and impenetrable.

It was the dead of night, and the castle was only dimly lit by the torches that hung on the walls every so often. They caused an eerie effect, bathing the walls in a soft orange that danced and flickered as fire was wont to do.

As they approached the cellar, where Merlin could hear the Knights murmuring below, he noticed something slightly odd.

"Where are the rest of the Knights, the soldiers guard the castle?" Arthur glanced around and then heard the bell on the castle pirouets chime once.

"That signals the change of shift, so they must be in the process of changing posts." He said, as they descended the stairs. Merlin snorted, Arthur looking back at him in surprise at the unladylike behavior.

"If your shift changes are signaled by a bell like clockwork, wouldn't that make it rather easy for the enemy to time their attack in between, and gain the upper hand?" The only indication that he hadn't thought of that scenario was in the minute misstep Arthur took when getting off the last step.

Inside the cellar, Lancelot and Leon stood closest to the entrance, quietly discussing to themselves, while Gwaine, Elyan and Percival were crouched around something a few feet behind them. At Merlin's entrance, the slight whisper of his dress against the chilly stone floor.

"Sire, is it wise to bring a," he looked at Elladora furtively, "woman to see something like this? It's not exactly pleasant to look at." Merlin huffed in annoyance.

"I'd like you to remember Sir Leon, that I am a physician. I've seen many ' _unpleasant'_ things in my time. Not to mention the entire situation with Bertram. I'm afraid there's precious little that would be able to upset me at this point." Merlin regretted saying those words almost immediately as he strode purposefully past Leon and Lancelot to come standing side by side with Gwaine, Elyan and Percival. He very nearly retched at the sight of the young woman that lay like a mangled doll near the far end of the cellar.

It took only a glance to realize that this was Clarine, the young woman who had been found cowering outside Bertram's chambers the night before. Her throat had been split, so thoroughly that only the spinal bone in the middle of the flesh stopped it from becoming a full decapitation. Her face was surprisingly calm for someone dead, her eyes glassy and dull, a perverse mockery of the way they had been when she was alive. Once Merlin got past the fact that a young woman had been so brutally killed for very likely no other reason than to instill fear, he focused on the body, noticing that something was wrong here.

He crouched low, using a finger to turn Clarine's head slightly to the side, ignoring how Elyan went slightly green.

"Where's her blood?" It was strange, that for a woman who's throat had been slit, there was precious little of it pooling around her body. "Her throat was slit so it should have sprayed all over the walls or at the very least be gathering around her body."

"If it's her blood you want, that would be here." Gwaine lifted his torch, the one he'd handed to Percival, to the wall, illuminating it in a bright gold. Merlin got up from his kneeling position and stepped around Clarine's body to step closer to the wall. It was covered in dried blood, now a grisly rust iron red, which Merlin would take to mean that Clarine had been dead for over at least a day. He turned his attention to the writing on the wall, _The Dark one comes, and with her she brings death's solemn drums._ As he considered the phrase, a symbol that was only half visible in the glow of the torchlight, but when it became obvious to him, the nature of the symbol, Merlin's eyes widened. He reached out and grabbed the torch right out of Gwaine's hand,(' _hey!')_ and lifted it closer to the wall, inspecting them. He traced a symbol with his finger, praying that he was wrong, muttering to himself.

"No, no, _no_!" He turned around, eyes wide as Arthur descended the last steps of the cellar, door banging behind him, decidedly shut. He shoved the torch back at Gwaine, nearly singeing the man's fingers in process.

"Ouch! Elladora, what's gotten into you!" Merlin ignored him, skirting around Clarine, and taking the stairs two at a time, throwing himself against the door which barely rattled under the pressure.

"Elladora, the door _does_ have a handle you know, equally helpful in opening it." Arthur called up to him from the base, but Merlin wasn't in the mood for jokes. He pushed at the door with his shoulder for more leverage.

"If you'd been paying attention my King, you'd have noticed that we seem to have bumbled our way into a trap." The brief sentence was enough to drive the mirth from all the knights, now on high alert.

"How do you know this is a trap?" Gwaine asked, now crouched low, torch in hand, the other Knights following his lead.

"Well, for one, the fact that the entire cellar is painted in runes for containment." Arthur motioned for them to raise their torches and saw, to his chagrin, that entirety of the cellar was peppered in symbols, mostly of 3 intersecting circles, the center of which was a sign that resembled a reverse number four with a line horizontally dissecting it.

Merlin backed away from the door as Percival began to throw himself at the door, becoming more and more frustrated when the slab of wood showed no effect despite being pummeled. Merlin motioned him away, pointing at the lock with his pointer finger. Maybe it had been enchanted shut?

"Alohamorra!" Nothing. He sighed and readjusted himself, becoming more tightly wound as each attempt failed.

"Bombarda!" When in doubt, this spell never failed to set things right. Except this time, the spell ricocheted off the door and bounced back to Merlin, knocking him off his feet and sending him flying back into a pile of wheats, stacked high in an adjoining room. The knights yelped in surprise as Merlin's body went soaring past.

"Elladora, are you alright?" Elyan and Lancelot peered into the room as Merlin shifted uncomfortably on the sacks, trying to find purchase to get himself upright. He happened to look up and see the slack jawed way that they were regarding the room.

"Arthur! I think you need to see this!" Elyan called over his shoulder. There was some shuffling as the King made his way over.

"What is i-" His voice died as he entered the room, eyes growing huge. Merlin was still struggling to get up when he finally found something solid to grab onto to hoist himself upright. Until he noticed that the object he was holding felt decidedly flesh-like. With trepidation, he looked down, seeing that instead of wheat, he had been lying on a stack of _bodies._

Feeling nauseated, he practically launched himself off it, unconsciously launching himself at Gwaine, bumping into him. Gwaine reached out and steadied him, eyes focused on the corpses.

"Well, now I know where the guards are." Arthur said, not looking pleased. He approached a body from the pile, and examined it.

"It's odd, they all look like they died of suffocation."

"That's ridiculous. Who would waste time on choking over, " Leon paused trying to get a rough estimate on the amount of bodies in the room. "80 guards, when you could just gut them?"

"There are other ways to strangle a person. Very effective ways." Merlin said grimly. The implications set in very quickly and the men went from investigative to defensive mode. Arthur doused two of the four torches they had, inching toward the door, this time in an attempt to physically jimmy the door.

"Alright, sound off for weapons." There was a flurry of movement as the Knights briefly double checked themselves before responding.

Leon pulled out a sword so large it looked almost comical. "Broadsword, Sire."

"I've only the ring sword." Percival, sounding as close to annoyed as Merlin had ever seen him.

"Short sword." That was Elyan, palming his sword to double check that it was, in fact, there.

"Two daggers." Lancelot deftly tossed them in the air and caught them, at the ready for combat.

"Sorcery." Merlin said, rolling his shoulders despite the look that Arthur was giving him. "Hey, you said sound off for weapons, and right now, it's a weapon."

"I have a mace." Gwaine said. There was a moment of silence as they looked at him, he shrugged. "What? I was bored with the sword, wanted to practice with something different."

The conversation was rapidly forgotten as they all head something drag by the door. Arthur peeked out, his back against the door, only tilting his face slightly to catch a glimpse outside through the grate in the door.

"I can't tell what's going on." Arthur hissed in annoyance, before jumped back as the door squeaked open and a long shadow fell across the entrance, accompanied by a deadpan voice.

"Isn't that normal for you, brother dear? You usually never know what's happening, even when it's happening right in front of you." They jerked back, surprised by the unexpected voice. The shadow grew shorter, until a figure emerged, standing illuminated in the doorway to the cellar.

" _Morgana._ " Arthur snarled, shifting his weight on his legs, and Merlin strode to the forefront, hands at the ready. He'd fought Morgana before and was fairly confident he could win again. Morgana held up a hand, her expression just this side of gleeful. She was dressed to the nines, Merlin saw, in a gown of the darkest black, making her pale skin seem even starker in comparison and giving her lips the distinction of looking like wild berries. Her hair was piled in a chignon that was comprised of half her hair, the rest falling in a comely way around her face.

"Ah-ah. I would be a _little_ more wary about using force Emrys. I have my lovely _pet,_ wandering these halls right now, all I have to do is call him here, but this way is _so_ much more fun." Arthur twirled his sword, holding it defensively as Merlin raised his hand, fingers outstretched.

"I could kill you before you managed to call it. You _know_ I could." Morgana nodded, but didn't seem in the least fazed by the threat.

"I don't doubt that you'd try, but you see, Emrys, you've much more to lose than I do, if you try it." Her arm, that hadn't been visible thus far, yanked something out of their visual range. Gwen stumbled into view, hands clutching the fist that was grabbing her hair from, pulling. When she struggled to get loose, Morgana tightened her grip and shook her slightly.

Merlin froze, even with his magic, he couldn't guarantee that Gwenivere wouldn't become collateral damage in a battle between himself and the King's half sister. It wasn't a risk he could take. He lowered his hands, frustrated at the turn of events. Gwen's own expression mirrored his, less scared and more irate. She attempted to wrench herself free, and Morgana seemed to finally have had enough. She pulled a dagger from a sheath in her belt, holding it up to the Queen's throat.

"None of that now, Gwenivere, I don't want to have to hurt you anymore than I need to." The Queen yelped as the dark sorceress gave a particularly hard twist in her hair, and held the short dagger to her throat, pressing tightly enough against the thin skin there to etch a pink line in the flesh.

" _Gwenivere!_ Morgana, whatever your complaints with me are, they don't involve Gwenivere, let her go." Morgana looked wholly bored with Arthur's supplication, the derision evident on her face. A group of solidly armored men appeared around her, she jerked her head in their direction

"It never ceases to amaze me how much you would do for a mere peasant girl Arthur, and yet, you see the plight of one woman but refuse to see the dilemma of hundreds more. Just like Uther." Arthur stayed silent, mouth working furiously to ignore the insult.

"That _peasant girl_ , used to be your friend, Morgana." Elyan spat from behind Arthur, eyes blazing at the Dark Sorceress. Merlin saw the brief flash of conscience cross the woman's eyes before it hardened again, hardened into the face of a woman who was willing to sacrifice everything for revenge.

The armored men came in and starting clamp irons around their ankles and feet. The knights protested as they were relieved of their swords, the weaponry clunking noisily to the floor. Another man came around with a burlap sack, tossing them in haphazardly. Morgana personally knelt to lock the manacles around Gwenivere's ankles, a perversion of the subservient pose, rising to finish with the wrist manacles.

It didn't escape Merlin's notice that the irons he was being manacled with were different from the others. When they tightened around his ankles and wrists, Merlin gasped, the rush of magic he usually felt, like a flow of fast running water, suddenly stopped. It was like a dam, Merlin could feel his magic swirling around inside him but now there was no out. It was like someone had put a stopper in a bottle, covering the only way to use his magic. The effect was staggering, very nearly disbalancing him.

" _Elladora!"_ Merlin heard Arthur call, as he swayed dangerously on his feet. He focused, trying to forget the feeling of his magic sloshing around inside, not unlike ale in a tanker.

"I'm fine." He managed to get out, sounding far more calm than he felt. These manacles meant he wasn't going to be able to magick his way out of this. Suddenly, things had gotten a _lot_ more complicated. Then he suddenly thought of something he hadn't considered before. _The children!_ His eyes widened fractionally. His mind was going a mile a minute. The fact that Morgana hadn't brought them down or mentioned them in an effort to corral Merlin's attempts at rebellion, choosing instead Gwenivere, told him that perhaps she was unaware of their presence. They had been sleeping when he'd left and he could only hope that by some miracle, he would be able to wrap this up before they awoke, before there was a real threat to them. Merlin couldn't remember if he'd removed the last muffliato spell he'd cast on the room, but was hoping he hadn't or he didn't know how they would survive.

There was abruptly the sound of growling, bizarrely human despite sounding utterly barbaric. One of Morgana's men came into view, dragging something with him by the scruff of its neck. It took a moment of adjustment, until they could see that it was a girl, a girl in a shredded dress, one that might have been a maid's uniform.

"Lords." Lancelot breathed, horrified. " _Penelope."_ With a start, Merlin realized he was looking at the barely human visage of the dignified woman who had taken over Clarine the other day. She snarled in the tight grasp she was held in, head bucking, and Merlin saw, with a sickening lurch of his stomach, the red sign of a glowing sun on her forehead, stark against the filthy skin.

"What _have_ you done, Morgana?" Merlin was appalled. This woman had been perfectly normal just a day ago. What had she done that had reduced the scullery maid to such a state? Morgana seemed entirely unaffected, and shrugged.

"It appears not everyone has the mental capacity to survive being possessed I suppose. Well, I _did_ have her slit her best friend's throat, but then, really, how can you tell? These non-magic types are just so _fragile_ , it's hard to tell what breaks them."

It was nauseating, for Merlin and he was sure that the tightening of Arthur's jaw meant he thought the same, for the compassionate and kind Morgana to have to turned into the _abomination_ that she now was. The woman who had helped liberate Merlin's family, his _non-magic family,_ from thugs and yet have turned into the very thing she had used to despise.

Once Morgana was satisfied that they were all sufficiently tied up, nodded towards the large, oafish man who had Penelope enveloped in her hands. At the signal, he dragged Penelope towards the back rooms, and soon, the growling stopped, replaced by the momentary sound of the sick slide of sword on flesh, ending with a wet thunk. Gwenivere flinched at the butchering of a woman in cold blood, a wide tear slipping down her cheek, unable to reconcile the horrendous act to the woman whom she had once cared for.

"Now that that's taken care of, let's move somewhere a little warmer, hmm?" Morgana said, going over to Clarine's prone body and dipping her entire hand, rings and all, into the slowly congealing blood around the remains. She turned, walking out of the cellar, smearing a symbol on the wall with the ichor, nullifying the trap and allowing them to be removed from the room.

* * *

 _Clunk._

 _Clunk._

Helga turned over blearily in her sleep, feeling Rowena's warm body next to her in the bed. She opened her eyes slightly, in the direction of the Mistress's bed and saw that it was still stiffly made. Their adoptive parent had never slept in it. She listened carefully again for the sound that had woken her up.

Under the seam of the door, the lights of the torches outside casting shadows, the silhouettes of people passed by their room.

 _Lots_ of people.

She padded out of bed and went around to the other bed, on Godric's side. Helga shook him to wake the older boy up, something wasn't right. She could feel it.

"Mmm – _Della, let go you troll_ – wha? 'Lga? Wha' you doin?" Godric slowly tried to come out of his sleep, eyelids heavily protesting. Once he took in Helga's anxious look, he was slightly more alert. He sat up in bed and looked around. It was dark, the only light in the room being the blue-ish glow of the moon high up in the night sky.

"Godric, something is wrong." He quirked an eyebrow. He knew better than to disregard her, but Helga's definition of wrong was definitely subjective.

"Wrong? What's wrong?" She lowered her voice and pointed to the door.

"There's footsteps outside our door, but it's not the one or two of the guards. I know what their footsteps sound like. The trees are too quiet, the stone _sounds_ different. It's constant footsteps too, like an army or something." The redhead bit her lip, her green eyes wavering, it was clear to Godric that whatever Helga thought she was sensing was very real to her and he would have to treat it as such. He nudged Salazar awake and sent Helga to do the same to Rowena.

"Come _on,_ up you lazy oaf."

"Five more minutes." Salazar slapped Godric's hand away. Godric rolled his eyes and hauled the 10 year old up by the collar.

"Up, _up._ Helga thinks something's afoot." Salazar groaned and shook his head, trying to clear the sleep as Godric crept to the door, and pried it open just a centimeter. Outside their room, in the hallway, there marched a contingent of soldiers. Soldiers very clearly not affiliated with Camelot, by the crest of the sun on their chest plates.

"Helga _always_ thinks something's wrong. Last week it was the radishes, remember? They had _killer bunnies_ coming for them." Salazar groaned, peeking out from under his pillow to shoot Helga an aggravated look. For once, she wasn't bothered, shifting uneasily on her feet, wringing her hands.

"Quiet, you simpleton. If Helga says something is wrong, I believe her." Rowena was awake now, sliding her feet into her slippers, flipping her hair over her shoulders, wrinkling her nose at Salazar. " And don't think I've forgotten about earlier. I'm going to get even, just you wait." Salazar grinned at her, waggling his eyebrows at her, succeeding in irritating her even further.

"Well you're going to have to wait, Helga was right, something's not right here. The castle is crawling with soldiers that aren't from Camelot." Godric said, from his crouched position at the door. He gently closed it, making no noise at all and then slid the latch in place. It wouldn't do much to hold anyone out, but it would buy them time at the very least.

"What? Then who are they?" Salazar was shrugging out of night clothes and putting on his trousers.

"I don't know, but I sure as hell don't want to find out. Mistress isn't here right now, she's never abandoned us before and I don't think she's about to start now." Godric grabbed Mistress's abandoned satchel and put it over his shoulder, helping to tie Helga's cloak around her shoulders. They didn't all have time to change into suitable attire. Salazar managed to change but it would take too long for them all to do it, which meant Rowena, Helga and himself would be gallivanting around in their shifts.

"That means that whoever they are, they probably have them tied up, that's the only reason why there's no sound of fighting. Otherwise, Mistress would be tearing this place apart by now." Rowena ran to the window and peered outside. There was a battalion of men just parked in the main courtyard outside the doors of the palace. It was eerie, the way they stood silently, eyes blank and silent, like they were just _waiting_ for the command to engage.

"There's more outside, what are we going to do? What about Gaius? How are we going to get help?" Once he'd helped Helga, Godric turned to Rowena, meeting her gaze, her eyes full of worry and hair looking more like a bird's nest than anything else. As the oldest of the foursome, Rowena and Godric had a responsibility to take care of their siblings. It was a promise the Mistress had make them take some two years into living together.

She'd sat them down while they had watched Helga and Salazar play in a creek near the cabin and told them with a severe look on her face that should anything happen to her, _ever_ , they were to take of each other first, and to make sure they all stuck together. As the oldest, it was their duty.

"Well, the first thing we're going to do is get out of here. We're not going to be much help if we get caught too." Helga was back to chewing on her lips.

"But how? Ro' says there's more of them outside. How are we going to get out?" Godric grabbed Salazar's hand and Rowena's, who in turn held Helga's.

"We apparate." Salazar looked at him terrified, trying wiggle out of Godric's grasp.

"Are you crazy? You don't remember what happened last time?"

He shrugged. Rowena's eyes brightened at the idea.

"I'd take my chances at getting splinched versus getting caught here, Salazar. We can always grow body parts back, but being captured is going to make us sitting ducks." Salazar screwed his eyes shut, clenching Godric's hand tight.

"Okay, fine, but only because you said so. You guys are going to be the ones explaining to Mistress what happened if I lose a leg."

"Oh, shut up. Now just focus on me -"

"Why you?"

" _Salazar! Not the time!"_

"Sorry, sorry. I'll be quiet now."

Godric let out a breath and inhaled, closing his eyes, he focused on a place he found safe, somewhere they could get help. He felt the ground jerk away from beneath them and fought the urge to stumble, the others not being nearly as successful. He clearly heard the loud crack that accompanied their disappearance and would never know that they missed their captors by mere seconds as a curious soldier stuck his head in the room to investigate the sound but saw nothing aside from an empty room.

Despite keeping a stoic face, Godric was pretty sure he was going to throw up as they landed on a soft surface. He felt Helga, Rowena and Salazar appear alongside him, or rather on top of him. Clearly they had wanted to go _exactly_ where he did.

" _Oof!"_ They landed in a heap of tangled limbs and somewhere above him, Salazar was wailing about missing two fingernails.

"Oi!" Once Godric managed to get a grip on his surroundings, he realized somehow that while he'd come to where he'd wanted, _perhaps_ he'd ought to have been more specific. Lianora's wide, very awake eyes stared balefully at him from the top of the bed on which they'd landed on.

"What do you lot think you're doing?" Beside her, Della and Earna were drowsily sitting up, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Rowena looked around as she hopped off the bed, feet hitting the wood floor with a thwack.

"Why was the first place you thought to go, Auntie Lianora's _bedroom?"_ She put her hands on her hips, and Godric's ears burned red. Lianora looked at all of them, clad in various kinds of clothing, from night where, to day wear mixed with nightwear.

"What's going on?"

* * *

"You possessed her? How could you, she was just a _maid_. You, of all people?! You know what it's like for bystanders to get pulled into a war they have no share in! She had nothing to do with any of this. Why involve innocents in this harebrained, nonsensical bid for a throne that you _know_ you have no claim to?"

A sharp yank on Merlin's manacles, the chains of which were in Morgana's hands, told him exactly what she thought of his words. It sent him stumbling and knocking into the armor of the soldier in front of him, clanging his head against a sharp point in the chainmail, a small gash above his left eye bled minutely.

They were being lead into the Great Hall, and a quick glance behind him, revealed that all the Knights were testing their own shackles, being all connected by the chains, and guided by the oafish man from earlier. Merlin saw Arthur quietly talking to Gwenivere, and saw her look of quiet concentration at his words. Once they entered the Great Hall, however, conversation died down as their chains were split apart.

The Knights and their rulers were led to the wall on the right of the throne, shackled to the wall decisively. Their arms were left in the irons around their wrists, but their legs were clipped with chains to hooks in the stone walls, usually used to hold weapons, or on special occasions as holds for decorations. Merlin however, Morgana led to the center of the hall at the front of the dais, where the throne was. Morgana stepped up the stairs and sat down on it with a flourish while her men grabbed Merlin roughly and wrenched his hands up.

As they did, Merlin realized with trepidation what Morgana was going to do but kept his face straight as the manacles on his wrist were hooked on the hook that descended from a chain link that was hung on the point where the candle chandelier was hung. He did nothing but tighten his jaw as the man began to pull a rope of twined metal to hoist him in the air, pulling it down and tying it near the throne. Soon, Merlin was dangling no more than a few feet in the air and moments into it, his arms burned from the sheer weight of his body.

He decided to talk to Morgana, to get his mind off of it, and regain some semblance of control.

"Didn't think your interests were that... _unique_ , Morgana." Merlin smiled as he heard Gwaine choke in surprised laughter. Morgana didn't seem to think it so funny though, an opinion she made abundantly clear by reaching out and kicking the cable that kept him elevated, jostling him and sending ripples of pain shooting through his body. Arthur was leaning closer to Gwenivere, unsure of what to do, he had no weapon and no way of defending himself, especially now that he had to protect someone who had no ability to protect herself against this kind of attack. Gwenivere was shuffled as far as she could go towards Arthur.

" _Why is she stringing Elladora up like that?"_ She whispered to Arthur, who looked at the goings on with mistrust in his eyes. There was an element to this that he wasn't getting. Morgana had called Elladora _Emrys_ , no, there was another layer of context here, he just wasn't getting it yet. While he would have been a lot more vocal had it been just him and his knights, with Gwenivere in here with him, he couldn't risk drawing unnecessary attention to himself or he would find them most likely to use the Queen as a way of torturing him.

In the time that he was thinking this, one of Morgana's men was circling Elladora, he saw, twirling a knife and eyeing her body appreciatively. At Morgana's permissive nod, he suddenly lunged forward and swung his knife at the sorceress's bodice, slicing the upper layer of the fabric, over her torso and exposing it. Arthur saw rather than heard Lancelot and Percival's gasps at the behavior, the two who were most sensitive to the plight of women among them. A white expanse of skin peeked through, though the very top, the part that would melt into her breasts bore some dark red discoloration, almost like a burn.

He didn't stop there, with the bodice effectively cut off from the skirt, the man decided that the skirt was probably a lost cause, grabbing it from the waist and wrenching it down, leaving Elladora in nothing but a torn corset and cotton under breeches with her slippers. Remarkably, through it all the sorceress managed to keep calm, not belying a single instance of vulnerability.

"If you're hoping to embarrass or insult me by putting me in a state of undress, you're going to find that it's not going to work Morgana. I have nothing to be ashamed of, after all, it isn't as if none of the men in this room have never seen the form of a woman unclothed." Elladora looked positively bored. Morgana said nothing, making a flicking motion towards the man, who retreated reluctantly while casting a longing look at her white skin to Arthur's utter disgust. She stepped towards Elladora, twisting the rings on her cheek, holding her hand up to the woman's cheek.

"It might not have had the desired effect, but it certainly _does_ effect you. In any case, I'll take what I can get. The goal here isn't to be quick, or I wouldn't have bothered with the basilisk and Penelope. Well," Morgana admitted, "I _did_ need the maids. Without her, I wouldn't have been able to break the barrier around the castle or get past Arthur's tireless guards. Without the child's blood, I couldn't write those containment runes, something about pureblood of a virgin." Without preamble, she swung her fist back, backhanding him hard across the face, the rings cutting three deep gouges into his cheek. Merlin barely managed to swallow his gasp, while Arthur struggled with his chains, unable to keep his silence as Morgana strode back to the throne, sitting in it leisurely. Merlin winced, he'd forgotten that before she was a mage, she had been an accomplished fighter, her punch had quite a lot of force behind it.

"Morgana this is madness! She's just a woman, what kind of a threat could she possibly pose to you?! Let her down, _now._ She's just a guest here." Morgana threw her head back and laughed. She propped her head on an elbow on the arm of the throne, and shot him a withering look. She clenched a fist tight and Merlin choked, _he couldn't breathe!_ It was as if something incredibly strong had grabbed his throat and was squeezing hard. Tears leaked out of his eyes as he fought for air. He could hear the Knights demanding Morgana stop, yelling for all they were worth. Then, abruptly, Morgana unclenched her fist, leaving Merlin to pant in exertion. His arms were shrieking in pain, and his shoulders felt as if they were about to break. A quick glance up to his wrists showed that they were raw and red, the cuff digging into his bones.

"I wasn't joking when I said that you very rarely know the truth of what's truly happening around you. This _woman_ , isn't just your guest, Arthur Pendragon." Morgana rose from her seat and stalked towards Merlin, eyes narrowed. "All around me, everywhere I go, they all say to me, _Emrys is your doom. Your downfall. You will die at his hand."_ She turned and shrugged, both hands facing up towards the ceiling. "It seems the prophecies are wrong, Emrys turned out to be a woman. Clearly one with nowhere near the power I have."

If Merlin hadn't been so focused on his iron cuffs, he would have laughed at her. Instead, he worked on keeping his voice steady, he wasn't a Knight, he didn't have the training to keep up pretenses through torture.

"You seem very sure of that." He said, raising an eyebrow, the manacles felt odd. While they did indeed keep the magic in him from being used, Merlin found that it worked more as a conduit than a cage. He didn't seem to be able to pry his cuffs off, but he seemed to be able to make his magic travel _through_ it. The thought was intriguinging, he grappled with it the chain over his hands and continued to talk in an effort to distract her.

"I am sure. But it never hurts to be thorough, does it? I have so much I want to do, and I would hate to be interrupted by some upstart tart that wants to play champion. I learned a couple things while I was away, brother dear." Morgana waved her fingers coyly at him. "This one," She turned suddenly to Merlin, "is from the lovely Kingdom of Caledonia, the sorcerers there are ever just so _clever,"_ Brought her fingers together, in a pinching movement. " _Crucio._ "

Lancelot didn't _ever_ close his eyes in the face of danger, but then Elladora's body contorted and the screams began.

 _God, the screams_.

* * *

"Alright, you understand that the fact that you come appearing in my room at midnight, as you do, and then refuse to tell me why, presents a fundamental problem, right?" Lianora stood in front of them in her night shift, tapping her foot. Salazar was getting his fingers bandaged by Della, blushing furiously. Godric and Rowena glanced at each other, debating on what to say, whether to say anything at all.

"Mistress is in trouble."

"Helga!"

"We need help Godric! We can't do this ourselves!"

"But -"

"Oh hush, you. Helga, go on." Helga nervously avoided Godric's heated look and forged ahead.

"We're not sure what's happening but we think someone has attacked the castle. Mistress never came back to our room. We just – we needed to get out, before we got caught too. I just know something's happened to her -"

Suddenly, the night was alight with the most anguished cries they'd ever heard. It was barely discernible as human, let alone as a woman. Helga clutched her ears, crouching to try and escape it. Almost immediately, as if in response, the very _air_ reverberated around them with the answering roar of something that sounded just as pained, and _ancient._ It echoed the pain of the screams that came from within the castle and lamented it, the cry ringing in their ears. As it went on, the roar grew louder and louder, and they realized, eyes wide, looking at each other. Whatever was making that noise was here.

It was close.


	22. Two of Them

**A/N:** Eeek! I'm a day late! Sorry! *cowers in fear*

Haha, ooooh, we're in the home stretch now, not much longer until it's done!  
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 **Chapter 22: Two of Them**

 _"_ What the – what was _that_?! _"_

Lianora yelled hoarsely, eyes wide as the tavern practically rattled from the force of a wind that blew through it, holding on to the wall as the ground shook. She grabbed at her hair, shoving it behind her ears, eyes darting around in trepidation. The keening renewed, sounding pained and another great gale accompanied it, and in response Godric, Salazar, Rowena, Helga, Lianora, Della and Earna raced downstairs, running into Rowley on the way down _("what's going on?")._ They ran into the back of the tavern, behind the bar and into the kitchen, wrenching the back door open to see the forest behind the tavern shaking violently, as if a storm was blowing through.

Wordlessly, Helga took off at a dead run through the woods, not a single thought for the group behind her as if she'd seen something.

"Helga! Hey, wait!"

Godric hitched Elladora's satchel higher on his shoulder and ran in after her, motioning for the others to follow him. He pushed through, following the brief glimpses of the white fabric of her shift. As the oldest of the four kids, Godric felt especially responsible to keep up after her so he held an arm over his face and kept going, dimly hearing over the crashing of his body through the leaves the yelps of Salazar as he tripped over roots and Lianora's curses.

He was so focused on running at his fastest, that he hadn't noticed that Helga had in fact stopped running and subsequently, he managed to run full speed into her still figure at the forest edge.

"Ack." Godric ran into Helga, knocking her over and managing at the same time to somehow send their entire company into a sprawling mess. Despite falling however, Helga hadn't uttered a single word. Godric looked at her briefly before hearing that awful cry again and realized with a start the sound was directly on them.

A single look up told them exactly what had been making it. Before them, stood in a clearing of broken trees, felled like twigs, was a gargantuan dragon, wailing in the middle of the wreckage. Another piercing scream echoed from the castle and the great beast practically cowered under sound.

Helga moved forward before Rowena or Salazar, stood closest to her, could grab her. Godric was able to however but nearly lost his grip when it spoke.

" _I shan't bite the little one's head off , Godric, you needn't worry so much."_ They gaped at the creature, as if they couldn't believe it had spoken.

" _Oi. The lizard spoke just now, right? I'm not the only one that heard it? I'm not losing it right?"_ Lianora reached out with an iron grip, holding Rowley's shoulder until he yelped in pain.

"Ow! You crazy woman! Get off me!"

Just then, a howl pieced the sky, guttural and reverberating with pain and the dragon, as regal and elegant as he was, pulled his snout back, and snarled, the sound low and guttural.

" _The witch tortures him like a slave master."_

"Tortures who? What's going on? Who are you?" Godric seemed to have mustered up enough courage to ask the dragon what exactly was going on.

"My name, young warlock, is Kilgrraah. And you would do well to remember it." The snarl was now seemingly a permanent fixture on his face, his great eyes fixed balefully on the castle a short distance away.

" _Merlin. Your Mistress, child. She is torturing him with forbidden magic, and I cannot lift a finger in his defense!"_

"Why not?" Lianora asked indignantly. "I mean, you're a great big bloody dragon, for goodness sakes. If you wanted to, you could burn the castle to cinders before anyone knew what hit them." Kilgrraah snapped forward in the blink of an eye, the movement so fast that Lianora didn't register it until his snout was a hair's breadth away from her face, his sulfuric breath ghosting over her face.

 _"Mark my words, female creature, that if I could, that castle would be rubble and all who dwelt there would be dead. But it is my cruel fate that I cannot even approach the town."_

"Why not? What could _possibly_ be stopping you?" This was Salazar, his youth making him reckless in his dealings with the ancient creature. He watched the dragon, hands on his hips and waiting for a response.

 _"Your Mistress has commanded it so. That I was never to appear in Camelot again until he said otherwise and in his current state."_ Kilgrraah's eyes narrowed to slits. _"I doubt the man can remember his own name, much less call for me and allow my return."_

Lianora gingerly took a step back, moving only when it became obvious that Kilgrraah wasn't about to savagely separate her head from her body. It seemed, in the silence, that the torture had finally stopped, at least for now. There were no more screams, and the castle was eerily silent.

Godric shuffled the bag on his shoulder, it had been a while and the heavy sack was beginning to cut into his shoulder.

"What shall we do?" Rowena paced nervously. "We can't just leave her - him – there! She, ugh, he, saved us! We would all have starved to death years ago if it weren't for Mistress! I don't care how, we _need_ to get in there!"

"I want to help him just as much as the rest of you, but you realize that if the place is overrun by knights, we can't exactly just go waltzing through the front door, yeah? We need to find another way in."

They were all silent for a brief period of time, where they thought over their dilemma.

"There might be another way in." This was the first time Earna had spoken since they'd come out to the dragon made clearing in the forest. She colored slightly when everyone turned to her.

"What're you talking about Earna?" When the strawberry haired girl hesitated, Lianora tapped her foot impatiently.

"Quickly, girl. This is important."

"I saw, um. I saw an entrance to the castle, last week when I was in town."

"In town?"

"Okay, maybe I was with Dowling up by the moat in the upper town!" All this was said in a rush that made Helga's mumbling seem welcome in comparison.

"I've told you time and again, you silly child that that boy is nothing but troub-"

"Ahem." Realizing they had an audience, Lianora gave Earna a look that promised trouble.

"I'll be tannin' your hide for this Dowling fellow later. Right now, I need to know what this entrance is."

"It's near the moat, behind the physician's quarter's. A round square gate that opens into the hallways near the Armory."

"Oh I know that place!" Lianora snapped her fingers, before glancing up at the castle, still silent, a factor wherein Lianora wasn't sure if it was a good thing or bad.

 _"Before you go, striplings, might I suggest something?"_

* * *

It was struggle to stay conscious in the aftermath of the spell that Morgana had cast. As he caught his breath, Merlin was very dimly aware of the shouts of the other imprisoned people in the room. He could hear Arthur screaming his name at the top of his lungs, his voice colored with guilt, still believing that he condemned an innocent woman to unnecessary violence.

That, through the haze of pain that coursed through his body, was what Merlin focused on. Arthur, knowing he was a sorceress, a magic user, was trying to protect him, to protect a mage. He could still feel his magic as potent as before, just now searching for a place to go.

Merlin tried to open his eyes, feeling the sweat dripping from his brow, down his back, and matting his hair down, plastering it to his neck.

"Elladora! Elladora, can you hear me?!" Lancelot rattled his chains, in futile unconscious effort to go to her aid. Merlin licked his dry lips, wetting his throat before attempting to speak.

"I'm fi – ah!- ine. I'm fine Lancelot. Nothing to worry about. Not yet at least." His voice was absolutely ruined, rough and raspy. It made him wince just hearing it, nevermind talking with it. Clearly the screaming hadn't been the best thing for his throat. Morgana, during watching him writhe from the pain, had once again taken a seat on Arthur's throne.

"Very good. I applaud your tenacity. Really, I do." Morgana clapped from her seat, she seemed mildly impressed that Merlin had withstood it at all.

"Morgana, you don't have to do this. Surely we can talk about this, you're my sister, that has to mean _something_ to you!" Arthur was straining against the chains that bound his wrists, imploring his sister to see reason.

" _Mean something_?! Of course it means something! It means everything!" Merlin watched her apprehensively, Arthur's comment about them being siblings appeared to have a struck a rather touchy nerve. Her eyes were beginning to take on a wild quality that he wasn't too sure he liked. An evil

His arms had gone painfully numb now, and a glance upwards showed him that the writhing around earlier hadn't done him much good, actually cutting into his skin now, creating bloody circles around his wrists. Merlin bit his lips as he swung there. He was beyond exhausted but he couldn't afford to let go right now. He was all that stood between Morgana and Camelot. A thin bastion of defense but it was the last one they had. He swiveled his hands around in inside the cuffs, feeling for the chain and wincing when the edges of cuts grew deeper at his movements. Upon touching it, he realized that he could feel magic thrumming through it.

A few seconds more of feeling around and Merlin realized the power he was feeling was _his._ Somehow, the chains weren't stoppering his magic, it was _siphoning_ it. Now everything took on a bit more meaning. Stringing him up had been an added bonus, a clear torture scenario by coincidence rather than deliberate. It was a by product of her actual plot, which appeared to be a bid to drain him of his power. His eyes traveled the length of the cord of chain link, to the point at the ground where it was anchored. At the end, there was a small box, like a jewelry box, that held a thin circlet, one that was glowing and the glow getting stronger with every ounce of magic that Merlin pushed towards that chain.

He thought quickly. If he hadn't gotten his logic mixed up, he could find a way to incapacitate Morgana. But what would he do about the other guards in the room? And how would he help the others break out of their restraints. He shook his head, _first things first, Merlin. Worry about the rest of it later._ He reached up and grabbed for the chain again.

* * *

"Ouch! Aunty Lianora! That's the second time you've stepped on my foot!"

"Well than get your foot out of my way Godric, I hardly need to be the one to tell you that!"

Helga was very rarely annoyed by things, but currently, the squabbling between Godric and Aunty Lianora was close to getting her to that point. They, (she, Godric, Salazar, Rowena and Lianora) had managed somehow to find the entrance that Earna had told them of earlier, an iron gate in the castle walls behind the physician's quarters, which she suspected, by the state of the plant growth in the area, was probably a forgotten emergency exit from the castle. Either that or a secret pathway from which deploy soldiers.

Either way it worked rather well for them, since they had slipped into it virtually unnoticed and were now approaching the end of the passageway. It had begun as a walkway but quickly devolved into a crawlspace. She finally reached another grate, rusted and brittle, and which very little coaxing, it popped out rather easily. She clambered out and stood, stretching her limbs out before bending down to motion the others out as well.

"All clear?" Rowena asked, as she took Helga's offered hand and climbed out. Helga nodded, sweeping an arm out to motion the room's desertedness, but in the process nearly knocking over a rack of helmets. She grabbed it quickly and flashed a sheepish smile at the raven haired girl who raised an eyebrow while helping the others out.

"Yes, yes. Definitely all clear." She patted the shelf like she'd meant to do that. They were dusting themselves when they heard the sound of clanking armor in the halls. Suddenly they were thrown into disarray.

"Quick! Quick! Someone's coming!"

"Quick, Aunty Lianora, the thing! The sheet that Kilgrraah gave you!" Lianora fumbled around in the satchel that she'd taken from Godric and pulled out a large piece of shimmering fabric and threw one end to Salazar. They bunched their fists in each corner, careful not to let their hands peek out, and held still just in time for two guards to pop their heads curiously into the armor. They could vaguely make out the people in through the fabric.

"What?"

"Nothing. I thought I heard something. I could have sworn it, but there's nothing in here." They shrugged and walked out. It was another few tense moments before Lianora and the others breathed a sigh of relief, with Salazar dropping his end of the sheet.

"Oh, that was far too close. I don't ever want to do that again!" Rowena helped Lianora bundle the cloth up again and she shoved it under her arm, holding it.

"It's right useful this thing. I wonder where the old bat got a hold of it?" Lianora said as she walked around the Armory, picking up a couple of swords and belts.

"He said it didn't matter so I suppose we should leave it at that. Besides, right now, we've got to get to the throne room, that's where he said that Morgana would be likely to hold Mistress."

"That's righ – what _are_ you doing?" Godric said, as Lianora started fastening a leather belt around his midsection. She gave him a cursory glance and continued.

"What? We need weapons."

"We _have_ weapons, remember?" Rowena held up a gnarled branch of walnut wood, unassuming at first but far more interesting when it was noted at how easily it accommodated her fingers, allowing her to grip it with comfort. The others had their own versions of it. Helga held a branch of Ash wood, Salazar a section of Laurel and Godric held a wand of twisted Holly and Oak. Godric followed her gaze, looking at the strange thing in his hand. Kilgrraah had called it a wand.

Kilgrraah had sniffed too close Godric, causing him to jump and drop the bag that he'd had shouldered since they'd fled the castle. The dragon reached out to hook it with a curved claw, flipping the bag open and with some pointed shaking a bundle of twigs wrapped in cloth fell out, scattering them on the ground.

"What's that?" Salazar had said, looking at it interest but hesitant to approach too close to the dragon, not sure if he was going to get eaten if he did (it was difficult to gauge the seriousness of his words, after all he _was_ a Dragon).

 _"They are the answer to the problems with your magic, wizardlings."_

"What's that supposed to mean?"Godric was indignant. Sure, their magic wasn't exactly _perfect_ but it wasn't bad either.

As if he'd read Godric's mind, the Dragon gave a snort of laughter.

 _"It would be appreciated, Godric, if you didn't take offense to_ _ **everything**_ _that was said to you. As it stands we do not have the time."_ He used his hooked claw to push each branch toward one of them.

 _"Wha -"_

 _"Helga, the Ash belongs to you, nurturer of life, of nature. Rowena, the Walnut to exemplify your endless thirst for knowledge. Laurel for ambitious Salazar, and you, Godric,"_ The dragon turned his giant yellow eyes towards him, pushing the wand to him and observing him closely as the boy picked up the branch, turning it over in his hands curiously.

" _You are both Holly and Oak, 'tis a tenuous compromise of the two but remember, wands are naught but a reflection of the desires of their masters. Use yours wisely, for power can open many doors for you."_ His large reptilian head swung around to survey them all _. "But what matters is that you choose the door that is right for_ _ **you.**_ **"**

Then he turned his sights on Lianora, blinking at her slowly for a minute, the woman trying her hardest not to squirm under his gaze. Seemingly satisfied with what he saw, Kilgrraah unfurled a wing, and a parcel dropped out, bound with string. He used his snout to push it towards her.

" _Listen well, Lianora of Camelot. Your legacy will extend beyond the borders of this Kingdom, your bloodline will change the world of sorcerers in the times to come. Take this and guard it with your life, it must be passed down to your descendants, only you."_ Lianora gingerly reached out and took the parcel, never taking her eyes off Kilgrraah. She peeked at the shimmery material in the package, touching it briefly.

Godric had been endlessly curious about it as well, but when Kilgrraah suddenly straightened, gazing at the castle through slitted reptilian eyes. Then he'd turned slowly, eyes full of barely suppressed rage, and said slowly to them.

" _Go. Now. Do not waste any more time, you have more than enough to aid you on this journey._ "

He'd had no choice but to obey.

He was jolted out his reverie by Lianora shoving a sword off a rack into his hands.

"Listen you may have your branch- y things to wave around, but I prefer my pointy sticks to be sharp and stabby." She winked as gave them each one and kept a broadsword for herself. "Stabby works best, I find."

"Why are you even with us Aunty Lianora? We _did_ tell you we could handle this on our own, you didn't have to leave Earna, Della and Rowley behind."

Lianora made _'psh'_ sound and unfurled the shimmery green black fabric again.

"Oh yes, sure. Merlin would kill me if he found out I let you do this on your own. Not that he won't kill me for letting you do this in the first place anyway, but you know, I'll take the lesser of the two evils I suppose."

They froze again as they heard another sound, this time more like a slithery sound. Like silk moving along a stone floor. Lianora grabbed the fabric and draped it over them, letting it expand over their bodies as they peered around the door just in time to see something overwhelmingly large and scaly sliding past the adjoining corridor. There was a large amount of hissing accompanying it as well, while bringing up the rear was a large battalion of soldiers.

They audibly gulped, realizing that the _wonderful_ dark sorceress had much more than enchanted soldiers up her sleeve. Lianora sighed, then straightened her back, doing a quarter turn under the cloak to look at the four kids with her. She was way out of her depth here, but she wasn't about to sit by while the man who had saved her life was in need of help. Lianora sucked in a breath and rolled up her sleeves.

"Come on. We better hop to it, before these goons realize we're here and turn us into singing jail birds."

* * *

"It was _you!_ You did this to me! You, Arthur Pendragon!" Morgana was beginning to lose some of that composure she was so proud of. Merlin still hung in the great hall while the others were chained to the wall, but he hadn't done much more to give her the satisfaction that she'd broken him. While she continued to shout abuse at Arthur, Merlin had focused on the chain that had him tied up. He realized as he tested its abilities, that if Morgana was hoping to siphon his powers, then very likely, she wasn't aware of his true capabilities.

It had been told him again and again, he didn't _use_ magic, he _was_ magic, and if Morgana hoped to take it from him, all crowns in the world wouldn't be enough to contain it. But if he had understood the workings of Magic correctly, he could hope to send enough power into her system, like a shock and disorient her long enough to get out of here. How would he get out? Well, that was a problem he'd solve when he reached it.

Merlin closed his eyes and focused on pouring his magic into the chain, chanting his own name, his identity over and over again, like a lifeline. _My name is Elladora of Carhaix. My name is Elladora of ….No that's not right. That's not who I am. My name is_ _ **Merlin.**_ _Son of Hunith and Balinor. My name is_ _ **Merlin.**_ _Son of Hunith and Balinor..._

"Where's the Morgana I knew? The one who was compassionate? Kind? Empathetic?" Arthur urged, looking at his half sister in bewilderment, not recognizing the dark face of the one who stood before, overcome with evil and too far gone to turn back. She, almost back to the throne, turned furiously at the words. Her eyes wild and honestly, a little frightening in Merlin's perspective.

"The Morgana you knew is _dead!_ She died the day she realized that even her own father would see her burnt at the stake than accept magic back into the Kingdom! She died the day she realized that her own _brother_ would happily _watch_ her die a criminal's death!"

Arthur recoiled at the accusations, but didn't let it stop him.

"That's not true! I never would have -" Morgana was suddenly inches from his face, making him back up against the wall he was chained to.

"No?" She was suddenly smug and judgemental, like she had found a tender point in him. "Really? I mean, your faithfulness is rather scattered at best, brother. Even those who work for you don't want to risk their necks for you. I mean I don't even see clumsy little Merlin." At the widening of Arthur's eyes, she knew where to dig in.

"Oh poor Merlin. The foolish sod with Magic that insisted you were the one who would solve everything. Time after time," she said, now walking leisurely around the room, circling Merlin's hanging figure. "He would beg me, saying 'Arthur's different, Arthur's not Uther, just give him a chance! He won't kill you, you're his sister!'" She laughed, a high tinkling sound that was delighted.

"Wasn't he just the funniest creature, Arthur? So sure that _you_ would be the one to change him, and look where that got him. A sword to the back and the promise to cut him down where he stood. I should have known, that boy was _always_ there at the last minute. Tripping over something or bumping into something," She clenched her fingers in mild annoyance. "He managed to ruin my plans every single time. I should have seen it, he was too lucky _not_ to have magic."

She stopped her circling in front of Merlin, hands on her hips, and a self satisfied look on her face, even in the face of Arthur's snarl. Merlin caught sight out of the corner of his eye of movement in the servants doorway behind the throne. He blinked, looked again, gobsmacked to see Lianora's pale face squinting at him from the door. Seconds later, he saw Godric, Rowena, Helga and Salazar. Before he could wonder what they were doing, he realized that it was now, this was his only shot at freedom.

"Still, he was endlessly loyal and look at how you repaid him," Morgana continued, relishing the look of broken guilt on Arthur's face and the reflections of it playing out in the Knight's as well. "And for all his posturing, I guess Merlin's seen the light as well, seen _you_ for who you _really_ are, _King Arthur_."Morgana's face was the picture of fake sympathy and all too real ridicule. "Here you are, trussed up like a holiday pheasant and where's Merlin?" She gestured around her, the large hall empty, save for themselves. Merlin took a deep breath, knowing he needed more power, and he only had very little of it left.

"Where's honest, faithful little Merlin?" Merlin's eyes shot open as the chain crackled with magic. In front of Morgana's surprised eyes, he dropped the glamour, gritted his teeth against the pain in his hands and grabbed the chain, swinging forward with his feet outstretched and hitting her in the stomach.

"Right here, you manipulative witch!" Merlin grunted as he made contact.

His kick had sent her flying back into the chains. She screamed as the magic coursed through her body, eyes rolling back into her head as she fell unconscious, while the others looked at him shock. At the exact same time, taking advantage of the chaos, Godric, Rowena, Salazar and Helga burst through the door, pointing their wands at them.

" _Reducto!"_ Arthur's manacles exploded into dust as did those of the others. Morgana's collision with the chain had significantly loosened it, allowing the chain to unravel just enough to lower him to the floor.

"Merlin!" Gwaine and Arthur were the first to reach him. Merlin was breathless, as he turned to them. He barely got out a word however, before Gwaine grabbed him by the collar, and crushed his mouth against his own. Just as abruptly he pulled back, pink in the face and looking terrified at his own actions.

"Sorry! Sorry! I just -" Merlin just gave him a weak smile, still feeling the pain in his arms.

"It's fine, Gwaine. It's all just – It's fine."

"What are you dilly dallying for?! This isn't high tea, _move it!_ " Lianaora yelled from her position at the door. A guard came barreling through but collided face first with Lianora's fist, dropping him promptly into unconsciousness. She gestured towards them again, shoving the four children back through the door.

"Come _on!"_ Merlin held up a finger to signal her to wait.

"Just give me a second." He shakily lifted a foot up and stomped down as hard as he could. The ground underneath him rippled, moving like a way and tearing the stones off of the floor. It effectively dislodged the stone that held his chain in place. He wasn't out of his manacles but at least now he could move with it. On the floor near the overturned circlet, Morgana's still form moaned, as she pushed herself up, her eyes regaining their alertness.

He yanked as hard as he could, but the stone only moved a little, he was too tired to move. The torture had taken out quite a bit from his endurance and with that last stunt, he'd managed to deplete what little magic he'd had left. Ever helpful, Percival grabbed stone and lifted it like it weighed nothing, Gwaine and Lancelot ducked under Merlin and supported him from either side, following Lianora out of the room, just as Morgana righted herself.

"Stop!" She screamed, attempting to move forward and then groaning in pain when she did. Realizing she couldn't use her own strength to catch them, Morgana narrowed her eyes, and let loose a series of hissing noises, sleek, breathy and smooth.

They ran out of the room only to be met with a plethora of soldiers and behind it in a great coil was the beast they'd been looking for the entire time they were in Camelot.

"Don't look at it! That's the basilisk!" Merlin yelled as they grouped together, back to back.

Lianora tossed the Knights the rest of the swords she'd lifted from the Armory and handed a thin sword to Gwenivere. They all assumed positions with Merlin still cuffed between them, ready to fight as the men approached and the snake approached with greater speed were cornered and hard pressed to find a way out. Salazar looked around in a panic to find something, anything to get them out. His gaze landed on a serpent coiled around a candelabra on a statue of a woman most likely a previous Queen, a silvery green color. It wound tighter around it as he watched.

 _Thissssssss wayyyhhhhhhhh._

Salazar nearly dropped his wand in shock. He glanced at Godric and Helga beside him. Neither of them seemed to have heard anything. It cocked its head and flicked it tongue out again.

 _Thissssssssss wayyyyhhhhhhh, Master Salazarrrrrhhh._

Salazar suddenly understood what it was trying to tell. He grabbed the candelabra and pulled just as the giant serpent, came upon them. The statue swung inwards into the wall to reveal a sloping tunnel. Merlin saw the tunnel and shoved them towards it, hands bound.

"Go! Go!"

Gwenivere fell in first, shrieking as she slid down, followed by Elyan, Percival, Lancelot, and Lianora. Arthur stood gaping at the scene around him, and kept doing so until Merlin grabbed him by the back of his collar and bodily threw him down it, pushing Helga, Rowena and Gwaine after him. He turned to find Godric standing immobile, shaking as the basilisk bore down, holding his sword out in front of him defensively.

"Godric!" Merlin screamed, running towards him, terrified he wasn't going to make it in time. Godric could hear Mistress screaming his name. Well, now it was Merlin he supposed. Except now, he was too scared to move. His feet felt frozen to the ground, while he clenched his eyes shut, praying earnestly.

 _Please let me be brave. Please let me be brave. Please let me be brave. Please let me be brave._

When he could hear it almost directly above him, Godric let out a whoosh of air and strengthened his grip on the sword. He braced his feet and thrust as hard as he could, and dragged the blade to the side, feeling the blade pierce the basilisk's hide and the tear of the skin as he pulled on the sword. Godric heard pained shrieking and a rush of air. He hazarded a peek, opening his eyes to see the snake tossing its head, blood pouring from the wound and raining down, moments from hitting him.

At the last second, Merlin grabbed Godric by his leather sword belt and yanked his backwards, tucking the boy under his arms, through his bound wrists and plunging through the tunnel that Salazar had opened. The warlock could hear the rush of blood behind them, sliding down the path like a river even as the doorway closed.

As the tunnel leveled out, Godric rolled out from Merlin's gasp, breathing hard, eyes wide in fright. They had fallen into a deep cavern below the castle, which Merlin recognized as connected to the place under the castle that had once held Kilgrraah captive. It was dimly lit by a fire or light somewhere deep in its bowels, though Merlin had yet to discover its source. Merlin was still collapsed on the ground as the clear, silvery blood came down in a surge. Godric grabbed Merlin by his raw wrists, repeatedly muttering apologies as Merlin cried out in pain, dragging him out of harms way.

Arthur was staring at Godric in astonishment as the boy slumped to the ground in exhaustion.

"You killed it ! You managed to kill a basilisk!" For a moment there was a stretch of silence between them. Then unwillingly, they began to laugh, a hysterical sound, a sound made in the exhilaration making it out of such a hopeless situation _alive_. For the time being at least.

Their relief was short lived however as they heard a low but deep rumbling that ended with a hiss. Lianora and Arthur peeked over the top of the boulder they were all huddled behind but saw nothing. Percival and Elyan tugged on Arthur's tunic, while Helga and Salazar tugged frantically on Lianora's nightshift.

"Oh for heaven – what? I'm trying to see where that noise is coming from!" Lianora grumbled as she looked down at the two.

"I don't think you have to." Gwenivere whispered, pointing beside the rock. Lianora gasped, nearly falling and managing to avoid making a sound only by Percival's quick thinking in covering her mouth.

Arthur was pressed close to Merlin's side against the rock, his voice coming out as barely more than a croak.

"There are _two_ of them."

 _Two basilisks_ , Merlin thought, gazing at the sleeping creature.

And they were right in front of it.


	23. Arthur

**A/N:** ONLY ONE CHAPTER LEFT!

As always, please read and review, I would love to know what you think about this chapter :)

 **Chapter 23: Arthur**

Gaius peeked out of the door of his quarters, seeing the battalion of soldiers stationed in the courtyard and wondered what in the blooming hell what going on.

 _Just one quiet year. Just one._

 _Wa_ _s_ _that_ _really_ _too much to ask for?_

* * *

Merlin had never really liked snakes. Far too slithery and wily for his liking, no, he preferred birds if he were honest. But staring at the serpent coiled around itself in the bowels of Camelot's castle, Merlin was just praying that somehow the giant thing would continue sleeping and they would somehow escape from this place unscathed.

Others were silent, eyes huge, as they took it in, the scales moving in unison, in and out, in time with its breaths.

"It's asleep, so for now, we're safe."

"Oh yes, I feel _very_ safe, Merlin." Arthur said, the sarcasm practically dripping from his words. Merlin turned to look at him with an eyebrow raised and the King's face slackened a bit, as if he'd just realized that Merlin was, in fact, Merlin. His arm shot out and grabbed him painfully by the upper arm, near his shoulder.

"Merlin!"

"Yes, Sire. I would whisper if I were you, we don't want to wake it." Merlin walked past his King and knelt near the puddle of basilisk blood on the cavern floor. He'd read somewhere in his research on basilisk's that their blood was extremely corrosive, so this was a long shot, but _maybe._

 _"_ Ah ha!" It was working. He touched the manacles to the blood again and watched it corrode the runes on them, effectively releasing the enchantment on them and weakening the metal enough for him to use the little magic that was slowly returning to him to snap it easily off his wrists. He winced, rubbing his wrists, the cuts stinging. Helga gently stopped him from scratching them and gently stroked over the cuts, and leaving Merlin to watch as the broken skin wove itself anew over the cut. He smiled wanly at the beaming redhead when she drew her hands, clasping them behind her back.

"Thank you Helga. You've been practicing and it's paying off handsomely." He patted her head affectionately. He was rudely summoned by Arthur with a violent thump to the back.

" _Mer_ lin! It is – It was – _You_ were Elladora!" Arthur was sputtering now, and Merlin was half tempted to call him out on it since it was the one thing Arthur hated doing.

"I was." Merlin watched as Arthur's expression turned from surprised to indignant. The warlock was only now just beginning to realize that he no longer had Elladora to hide behind. With the disguise gone, so was his familiarity with the King. Now he was back to being the criminal manservant who'd been run out of Camelot, and to hell with it, he had no idea how to behave. It seemed as if Arthur had forgotten what had transpired between them or he was ignoring it. Either way, Merlin was as stiff as a stick in the mud, and clearly it was showing. Arthur didn't seem pleased by Merlin's monosyllabic answers.

"Why the hell wouldn't you _tell_ me it was you?" The warlock snorted in derision at the idea.

"Oh yes, sure, because _that_ would have gone splendidly. 'Oh hello, Arthur, about that, I've been lying to you for seven years, I'm not actually a woman, I'm a man. Also, I'm the man that you kicked out of Camelot, and I'm back now, sorry!'" Merlin's deadpan expression told the king all he needed to know about Merlin's opinion on that particular idea. A loud snorting huff from the direction of the basilisk sent them scurrying farther into the caves, as Merlin peeked a look at it.

"Still asleep. Alright. Morgana's not likely to stop looking for us, but she knows that thing's down here so she's probably expecting it to make a quick dinner out of us. That leaves us with a very short amount of time to work with before she comes down here to make sure we're good and dead."

"So what do you propose we do then?" This was Leon, slowly coming back into his role as the strategist of the group.

"There's an exit at the other end of the caverns, which opens near the rear courtyard. I know the way, if we're quiet, we could be out of here rather quickly."

They began to walk down the cavernous walls, being careful to make as little noise as possible as they went. All the while, it seemed Arthur had finally found his voice again, going back to their earlier conversation.

"You still could have told me." The tone was mutinous, as if Merlin had been the one to commit the crime. Technically he had, but that was beside the point.

"Told you _what?_ I've been down that road, and it's not one I want to go down again, thank you very much." The others, following on tiptoe behind them, exchanged glances. This didn't seem like the ideal time or place to be having this row. Helga seemed to want to try to calm them down, she approached them, tugging on both their sleeves.

"You're the one that's practicing forbidd-"

"Oh for the love of – how many times do I have to say it? It's not by choice! It's just _there_ , I didn't exactly get a vote! I was enchanting flowers before I could speak! " Merlin wrung his hands in frustration. How like Arthur to speak but never listen.

"Uh, boys? Maybe we ought to -" Lianora tried to intervene but failed when Arthur just talked over her, his voice growing stronger as he grew more surly. Leon made to interfere but Percival put an arm out, shaking his head. The others realized that this was something that had been a long time in the making. Merlin's banishment and his magic wasn't something that could be swept under the rug.

"And it never crossed your mind to maybe _tell_ me that you had this?"

"What good would it have done? You hate magic! You would have thrown me in the dungeons or worse!" Helga tugged on Merlin's sleeve a little more urgently. "One second Helga, I'm a little busy." Merlin held up one finger to her, not looking at her as he continued his retorts to Arthur's needling.

"Now that's not fair -" Arthur protested in his defense, ignoring how Helga had switched her attempts to Arthur, grabbing his fingers and pulling, but he didn't look at her either, just pulling his fingers free and patting her on the head and saying "Not now, Helga, the adults are talking. Just wait, please." Helga wrung her hands in aggravation, eyes darting between them.

"Fair?! That's not _fair?_ Do I have to remind you _how_ I left Camelot? With your sword to my back! All for the trouble of saving your clot pole-d arse!"

"I didn't ask you to!" Merlin rolled his eyes, _of course_ he wouldn't change. Come hell or highwater, Arthur Pendragon was the same through and through.

"That's just it though, isn't it? You never asked for it. You would sooner stick your fingers in your ears like an infant than actually listen for the reasonable explanation for the situation!"

"You never gave me one!"

"The fact that I was your friend should have been reason enough!"

"What friend _lies_ like that?!" Helga pulled at him more and irritated, Arthur snapped at her, yanking his hand away. "Will you _stop_ tugging at my sleeves, child? Who taught you your manners?!"

"Hey, you _do not_ talk to my children like that!" Merlin pointed his finger in Arthur's face, offended. The King seemed more aggravated at Merlin's rebellious manner.

" _Your_ children? How are they yours? I thought you adopted them, or did you get up to more than you're letting on in that get up?" Arthur mocked him and Merlin's blood boiled. It was times like this that Merlin seriously questioned the judgment of the fates to be letting a man such as this be the man who was o bring about Albion's golden age.

"Now you're just being crass and you know it."

"Crass? How am I being crass -"

"You're behaving like some spoiled _princess_ -"

"I could have told you that ages ago." Gwaine deadpanned, flinching when Gwen and Lianora whapped him upside the head simultaneously for the ill timed barb. " _Ow_ _!"_ He looked to Lancelot, Leon, Elyan and Percival for help but they shook their heads at him, as if to say _'you're on your own'._

"that's throwing a temper tantrum over not getting his way!" Merlin ignored them all, turning away from the sputtering King trying to get his emotions under control.

"Well, I'm sorry!" Merlin blinked, chest heaving, staring at the blonde haired man across from him, not scarcely believing the words he was hearing.

"Pardon, I could've sworn – what?" Arthur huffed, his face coloring from embarrassment.

"I said I was sorry, okay? I wanted to call you back as soon as you left. But – but – listen, you were supposed to be the one I trusted the most. Finding out that you – _you –_ were lying to me, that just, it wreaked havoc in here." He pointed to his head, right on the temple, then scrunched the finger back into his hand, creating a fist, bringing it loosely down to his side.

"You know I would have told you if I could. But, you didn't give me any reason to think you would believe me. You put a sword to my _back_ , like I was some _turncoat._ " Merlin couldn't help the betrayal that seeped into his voice and he didn't miss Arthur's visceral response to it, recoiling. But before they could say anything further, Helga grabbed onto their sleeves again with renewed vigor.

"Oh for the love of – What?!" They both turned around and finally looked the young girl in the eyes only to see her looking around nervously.

"Helga, what is it?" She pointed around her, biting her lip.

"Listen."

They were all silent as they strained to hear whatever it was that Helga was telling them to listen for.

"To what? I don't hear anything." Godric grabbed Rowena's hand, and Salazar's. He'd noticed it as well.

"It's stopped." Godric said, eyes fearful and trembling, in his hand, was the sword he'd used to kill the basilisk.

"Stopped? What stopped?" Gwaine ground out. He was tired of running around and being just _that_ much behind everyone else here.

"The snoring's stopped."

Salazar whispered. Almost instantly there was silence amongst them as they heard a low gargle of noise, like the rattle of snake's hiss but infinitely larger. They crouched low to the ground, the orange glow of the cave still flickering.

Then over them, was an overwhelming shadow. A shadow that left very little to the imagination.

"RUN!" Percival yelled, he grabbed Helga and Salazar under the stomach, hauling them up like luggage and ran, the others following suit. They all split into pairs, running off in separate directions in a bid to confuse the beast, not daring to look anywhere but straight ahead for fear of making eye contact with it.

Behind them, the rocks crashed to the ground as the basilisk shot through, reducing the boulders to rubble, audible hissing noises alerting them to the way in which it was moving. This way and that, the slithering motion in it's movements made the cave rumble, the ceiling beginning to rain pebble sized rocks down on them with each heavy impact its body made on the walls and the floor.

"Wait! Wait, wait, _wait_ _!_ " Salazar screamed from under Percival's grip. "Don't kill it! You _can't_ kill it!"

"Why the hell not?! It's doing a pretty decent job of trying to kill us!" Elyan yelled as he and Leon veered off to Percival's left. The boy wailed, clutching his head. He could hear the basilisk, understand it even. All it was doing was screaming in pain, like it was some abomination, born of unnatural processes.

"It's not it's fault! He's not – He's not normal!"

" _Really!_? Whatever gave you that idea? The fact that it's probably as tall as the whole damned castle?!"

The fact that Lancelot was swearing spoke volumes to the stress he was under. Not unsurprising for their situation but yet Merlin couldn't help but crack a smile at the yelled words. Lancelot and Gwaine were sprinting with Rowena sandwiched protectively between them, off to the back of the cavern towards where they'd been originally heading.

"How the hell do you know it's a he?!" Gwaine narrowly ducked the tail whipping over his head, escaping decapitation by a hair's breadth. Arthur and Gwenivere jumped over it as it came towards them, with Gwen bunching her skirts in an effort to streamline her efforts to be just as fast as Arthur in moving. They caught sight of Gwaine, Rowena and Lancelot running towards Lianora and Godric and gave chase, the group reuniting.

"I can hear it! He's not even saying anything, just screaming! He doesn't know what he's doing!"

Merlin thought fast. It was essentially a snake, a big one with killing eyes, but a snake nonetheless. If he did this properly, it _could_ work.

"Percival! Put Helga down over there!" He pointed to the wall opposite where he was sitting and called out to the others. Percival looked at him strangely but did as he said, putting the freckled redhead down where Merlin indicated.

"Now, hide!" He made a motion towards Helga who stared at him confusedly, initially, glancing back fearfully as the slithering form of the basilisk neared them at an alarming rate. She slid back into a crevice in the rocks behind her, waiting for Merlin's next signal.

"How the bloody hell do you suppose we do that?!" Lianora finally found her voice. Rowena smacked her on the side as they continued to run. "There's a giant snake thing chasing us and it can probably see this whole place in a blink of its honestly really bizarre eyes!" She was currently off somewhere to Merlin's left, hiding behind a huge formation of rocks.

"She's got a point, Merlin! It's going to eat us faster than we can get out of here!" Arthur yelled, covering Gwenivere from the falling debris coming down from the roof of the cavern.

"Just do it!"

"Okay, but how?! There's not exactly a lot of options here!"

"Auntie Lianora! The cloak! The thing Kilgrraah gave you!" Lianora's eyes suddenly had a flash of understanding as she whipped out the shimmering cloth, the fabric glimmering in the dull cavern light.

"Oi, you lot, front and center. If we're going to hide, we have to do this right or we're going to end up snake bait!" As the group huddled in closer, she threw it over them and Merlin gaped as they blinked out of sight, the place where they had been standing, looking like nothing more than the rocks they stood in front of. Merlin backed into a column of rocks behind him, keeping eye contact with Helga and holding a finger to his lips, indicating the need for silence.

He kept his eyes averted as the basilisk reared up, the pale yellow eyes sweeping its eyes over the caverns, looking for its pray. It hissed when it found none, swinging it's head silence in that moment was stifiling, and everyone held their breaths, fearful of even moving slightly. Helga kept utterly still in her hiding place, gritting her teeth against her fear, focusing on Merlin's blue eyes, eyes that she could see clearly despite his being halfway across the room.

Under the invisibility cloak, Gwen winced, her leg was beginning to cramp, and she tried to relieve herself of the pain, smacking herself in the upper thigh. But Arthur grabbed her hand, shaking his head minutely. They couldn't afford to attract its attention, but in grabbing her hand, Gwenivere's leg slipped, kicking a stone and sending it skidding out, clattering against the floor, the sound echoing loudly in the cave.

The basilisk froze, it tongue slipping out to taste the air before it. It turned its reptilian head, saliva dripping steadily from its half open mouth, and eyes blinking so slowly that it seemed they didn't blink at all. It lowered its head, breathing slowly and studying the rocks below it, Lianora held her breath as the great big head came that much closer. Just a touch more and they would be mincemeat.

Then, there was the sound of footsteps. Loud and stomping. The basilisk raised its head in the blink of an eye, fast and focused, listening and looking for the source of the sound. Then, it happened again. Slow, loud and _deliberate_ footsteps. Merlin peeked out slightly, looking to the far end of the room, the end they had come down into from the castle halls, and there he saw, flickering slightly, the pure white silhouette of a woman, slightly translucent, stomping on the stone floor, almost dancing, she was swirling her hands in the air, using the force of the wind she created to move stones.

The basilisk honed in on her immediately, zooming past Merlin and Helga instantly just as the figure ducked behind a formation of boulders. Lianora, seeing the basilisk rush by, removed the cloak, watching it go. She turned and saw the figure just before she winked out of sight, but she couldn't shake the feeling that the visage was a familiar one.

As soon as the basilisk was past them and well into the other side of the cavern, Merlin burst out of hiding.

" _Now!"_ It hadn't taken Helga much to figure out Merlin's plan. There was only so much you could do control it without killing the basilisk. They each put their hands on the wall of stone and pulled, as if pulling out a sheet of cloth, making the wall rush out, the two panes stone walls travelling towards each other with frightening speed. By the time the basilisk turned and saw the walls closing around it, the thickness of the barrier being greater than the length of the snake itself.

Merlin struggled with the efforts of maintaining the spell, a toll he saw mirrored on the sweat beading on Helga's forehead.

" _Bear with me Helga, you can do this!"_

With a last grunt of effort, Helga and Merlin ran towards each other, pulling the wall with them like taffy, and just before the basilisk was upon them, Merlin slammed the wall shut, with mere seconds to spare.

There was violent wailing and hissing and banging on the barrier they'd created, the basilisk screeching its heart out. Lianora started as the glowing figure suddenly appeared in front of her, she was ethereal and soft, her hair flowing around her face like a halo. Suddenly, it came closer, caressing her face with one of its white hands.

" _Lianora._ " The word was like a whisper, ghosting around her like wind. The figure suddenly seemed to come into focus, and Lianora found herself looking at a very familiar face.

" _Madalen."_ She brought her hand up over hee mouth, in shock. The figure smiled blithely at her.

 _"In the flesh. Well, not actually, but you get the idea."_ Madalen's ghost, for there was no other explanation to her appearance suddenly twinkled out like a light, leaving her sister gasping in surprise. The others, who had been scared witless in her appearance fell boneless to the floor.

"No. I am out. I draw the line at ghosts." Elyan shook his head. The others in the group seemed more preoccupied with Merlin's abilities.

"My Lords, Merlin, you – you, you can _do_ that?" Arthur sagged against the floor, boneless after the fright they'd gone through. Merlin hugged Helga close, reveling in the relief from having escaped near certain death. They were both clammy from sweat and stress.

"Well, I wasn't sure I _could_ but it's great that it worked out, isn't it?" Leon and Elyan gawked at him.

"You mean you didn't _know_ you could do it?!" Merlin shrugged, the elation of his scheme working still coursing through his system.

"Magic is a little touch and go. I'm not always sure what will work and what won't." Arthur groaned.

"You're incorrigible, you are. How do you even survive without me telling you what to do?"

"I managed _just fine_ without for seven years." Merlin retorted, standing up and dusting himself off. He pulled Helga up as well, checking her for any injuries and patting her head.

"I'm sorry. That was a little difficult wasn't it? But you did splendidly, especially for your first time just following me."

Arthur put a hand on Merlin's shoulder, causing him to look up at him, when he did, the King gave his shoulder a firm squeeze.

"For what it's worth. If I could take it back, I would in a heartbeat." Merlin grinned and the King returned it tentatively. And just like that, the trust between them was back, though tenuous still, there was hope yet for their friendship.

"Okay, this is great and all, gents, but we've still got a batty sorceress up there with a bunch metal heads."

There was distant screeching again, a reminder of the basilisk that now lay trapped behind the stones. Arthur thought for a moment then motioned them close.

"Okay, so here's our plan of attack."

* * *

" _What do you mean you haven't gone down yet?!"_ The men visibly quaked as Morgana thundered at them. They stood just around the corner from the opposite entrance of the caverns. One them was a great tall man, with a stern mustache and a belly so large that Merlin wondered whether

"Well, it's jus', I mean," the shorter one rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "There's tha' great big beastie down ther' and well I mea -" Morgana threw a hand out and clenched her fist, lifting it an upward motion. The larger man gasped as he flew in the air, hitting the cobbled stone wall with a sickening thud.

"Has she always been this _hands on_ Princess?" Arthur grimaced, remembering his sparring days with her as a young boy.

"She was _worse._ " There had been an incident where she'd somehow managed to hoist him by his pants and hang him on a clothing hook. The maids had twittered whenever they saw him for _days._ He shook his head. This was _war,_ what was he doing remembering childish stories now?

"I didn't hire you to _think_ you oafs! I have _other_ uses for your kind if you don't as I ask _when_ I ask it." The shorter one yelped and ran towards the tunnels, his fear of Morgana overriding his fear of the basilisk.

He turned the corner coming face to face with Arthur, but before he could make a sound, Percival clubbed him on the head, watching the man crumble and fall like a sack of potatoes. Elyan and Leon grabbed him before he hit the ground while Merlin and Arthur watched Morgana walk the opposite way towards the throne room, shaking her head.

" _Fools. All of them."_

"Go, now, quickly!" Arthur ushered Lianora, Godric, Salazar, Rowena and Helga towards the courtyard. "Take Percival with you, we'll take care of Morgana, so you figure out how to take out that armada out there. I'm sorry, if there was _anyone_ else, I wouldn't have to ask this of you, but as it stands, we're all we've got."

Lianora lightly punched him on the arm, shocking him.

" _No one else_ would be able to do this for you anyhow, King Arthur. We're smarter than any Knight you've got in the castle." She winked before grabbing Percival's arm and yanked him and the others away without another word.

Arthur goggled after her, staring as she left.

"Why is it that all the people you make friends with have absolutely _no_ regard for royalty?" He shook his head, turning to Merlin who beamed back at him.

"Hey, I think she's quite the woman."

"Percival thinks so too." Gwaine quipped, eyes waggling suggestively, Elyan and Leon scoffed, and grabbed him up from his slouched position on the floor.

"This very much _not_ the time, Gwaine."

"It's never _not_ time for romance you old bears! Where's your sense of adventure?" Merlin sighed. Even in the face of war, the man couldn't be serious. And somehow, what he felt for this man trumped all of his strange faults. Arthur spoke up now, having been quiet thus far, calculating in his mind, the next step.

"Leon, Elyan, you two will take Gwenivere out of the Castle grounds, I can't risk her safety." Gwen's head snapped up, irritated that he was making the decision's for her.

"But I can help -"

"Gwenivere, this isn't up for debate!" The Queen's expression turned mutinous at the finality in Arthur's tone. His eyes softened at her obvious displeasure.

"I'm not saying this because I don't think you can handle yourself. It's because if I lose you, then I don't know what I would do." He looked at her earnestly, clasping her hand in his. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him before she exhaled in defeat.

"You're lucky you're such a smooth talker Arthur Pendragon. I'll oblige you just this once." She held a finger up, signifying that this was a once in a lifetime occurrence, before she let herself be escorted out of the palace through the stables at their rear.

Now it was just Merlin, Arthur, Gwaine and Lancelot. Gwaine, who was currently whispering to Lancelot who seemed to be getting rapidly bored with whatever Gwaine was whispering in his ear.

"Alright, you gossip. Let's do what we came here to do." Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

* * *

Morgana stared at the circlet in its overturned case next to the throne. It was thin and gold, the centerpiece made of a oval shaped ruby. It glowed a sparkling gold in the dull candle light. She reached a slender finger out to touch it, only to recoil when it sparked violently at her proximity.

"Ah!" She flinched, pulling her fingers back. Clearly the magic inside didn't want to be part of her, Morgana clenched her fingers into a fist, steeling her resolve again. She grasped it, enduring the sting of resistance, and put it on her head, over her coiffed hair.

That stung even worse than touching it. Morgana gritted her teeth, feeling the power that it had siphoned out of Merlin coursing through her. She leaned back, resting her head against the back of the throne. As rebellious as it was to her, the sorceress could feel his power rolling off of her, dancing from her fingertips in sparks, eager to escape.

 _Merlin_. She growled, leaning her fingers to her forehead, rubbing in circles. _I should have known, that scrawny twit surviving through all that? He had to have been magic._ _But for him to be Emrys! Oh, the heaven's are forever unjust. Here I am with the courage to do what needs to be done and they give all the power to a doddering fool who sympathizes with the ones who would kill us in a heartbeat._

Morgana realized that the two men she'd sent to go get prisoners had yet to return from their tasks. She snarled.

"If you want something done right, you best do it yourself." She got up, stalking off the dais when the door to the Great Hall swung open and in walked Arthur, Merlin, Gwaine and Lancelot.

"You! How – What -!" She sputtered, her face coloring with rage. Morgana stepped towards them, and suddenly swayed, the magic in her fighting against her at every turn.

Merlin stood behind Arthur as they faced his half-sister. She stood there, fury etched on her face, hands clenching and unclenching.

"Morgana this has gone on long enough, you have no right to this throne, not now, not ever. Especially not with the actions you have shown today!" Arthur held his shield up, displaying his crest as a Pendragon unintentionally.

" _You have no right to judge me Arthur! I am far more fit for this throne than a murderer like you! You, you who abhor magic so much that you would sentence your best friend to death!"_

"That's -!"

"You're wrong Morgana!"

They all jumped as Merlin strode out, defiant in his defense of his King.

"Unlike you, Arthur's isn't averse to change. _That_ is the true calling of a leader. To be just and fair and to let themselves change and grow!" He pointed to Morgana's circlet.

"If you must take leadership by using force than it is no true leader who does so." Morgana fisted her hands, clenching her teeth in anger, the very picture of this rebellion enraging her. She swung back and made a throwing motion, releasing a sizable ball of energy towards them.

"Duck!"

They dropped to floor, narrowly avoiding the blast, the impact hitting the wall and sending debris crumbling to the ground.

"Guards!" Morgana screamed, and instantly at her call, a group of ten soldiers came running in, brandishing long spears and broadswords.

"Arthur!" The King nodded at Merlin.

"Go! We'll take care of them!" Merlin flashed him a smile before sprinting off towards Morgana who had taken off through the servants entrance.

" _Morgana!"_

Merlin caught up with her, as she tore through the hallways, and up into the turret hallways. She turned hearing his voice and smashed her fist against the wall. Instantly, bricks leapt out, skittering towards him. Merlin flicked them to the side effortlessly. He picked one up and chucked it at her.

Morgana let out a shriek of fury as it grazed her head, knocking the circlet off and sending it rolling down stairs to Merlin's feet. He picked up the thin ring an easily broke it over his bent knee. His head snapped back as the power from the crown rushed through him, the feeling surging through his veins and setting them on fire.

"NO!" Morgana shrieked, clutching at her hair, the sounds of rage becoming garbled in their intensity. "How _dare_ you. That was _mine!_ "

" _Yours?"_ Merlin took a step forward, Morgana taking an equal step back. "That was _my_ magic in that crown. You were going to use my power to turn Camelot into your personal prize in your vendetta against Arthur."

"He isn't fit for the crown!" She wailed, turning and running up the rest of the stairs until the stood on the top of the tower, the wind whipping powerfully around them while the sky began to turn golden in light of the fast approaching dawn.

"But neither are you! How long are you going to harbor a grudge for your lost sister?! Do you think you're the only person to experience loss?!" Merlin yelled at her, as they stood on opposite sides of the round balcony atop the turret. She looked genuinely betrayed by him, by what he was saying to her.

"You are supposed to be the champion of us. For _all_ of us! How can we trust you when you fight against your own kind?" Merlin edged towards her, his back plastered to the shed behind him, where the castle maids stored the brooms for cleaning the balcony.

" _You_ are not my kind Morgana. The Morgana who existed before revenge and fear tainted her, _she_ was my kind. _She_ was my ally. Now, it is _you_ who is the murderer. Nothing more than the thugs we fought together. No better than _Cenred._ "

Morgana rounded on him, her gown and cloak flaring behind her as her expression became wild, erratic and unpredictable. She stuck out an accusing finger at him, spittle and vitriol spilling from her mouth.

"LIAR! _I_ AM OUR SAVIOR! _I_ WILL SAVE US FROM YOU, YOU WHO WILL DOOM US TO A LIFE OF SLAVERY AT THE HANDS OF ARTHUR PENDRAGON!"

In one fell swoop, she leapt from the tower, swirling the cloak around her and with a spectacular mid air spin, she transformed into a massive eagle, large and black as night, with a golden head. Merlin's mind raced with possibilities.

He turned and ran to the shed, just as Arthur, Gwaine and the rest, with the exception of the Queen and her escorts, came up the steps and out onto the balcony.

"Merlin? What are you doing?" Lancelot asked, baffled as Merlin pulled one of the three wicker brooms from the closet and spiked it over the ledge, shouting as he did so.

" _Itealaich!"_ The broom shot forward and then the warlock stood on the ledge, much to the terror of those behind him.

" _Merlin! Have you gone mad?! Get down from there_ _!"_

He ignored them all and jumped, hearing the screams of those on the balcony. There was a moment of blind fear, that his plan failed, but then he landed on the handle of the broom, grunting from the pain of impact.

Morgana's eagle form flitted in front of him, and he cleared his mind, locked his legs as if he were on a horse, and leaned forward, the broom zooming forward.

Up on the turret, Arthur was practically hanging off the overhang, screaming for his manservant.

" _MERLIN!"_ He bellowed, at the same time as Gwaine, who was shouting at the quickly disappearing form of the sorcerer.

Arthur suddenly turned to the four children, running past them to grab a broom from the closet as well. He held it up frantically in front of them, shaking it in their faces.

"Arthur what -" Lancelot cut off as Arthur held up a hand.

"Can you do what he did?" They looked at him, scared stiff. Helga seemed to be only one with semi working brain functions as her eyes flickered from the broom to his face.

"What? Bu -"

" _Can. You. Do. It?"_

" _Itealaich!"_ Rowena passed her hand over it, flow of magic coating the broom. Arthur gave her a tight smile and ruffled her hair.

" _Thank you."_

Then Arthur ran at the ledge full tilt and jumped off.

" _ARTHUR!"_


	24. A New Adventure

**Chapter 24: A New Adventure**

Lianora was quickly realizing she had a bigger mouth than she had a brain. For all of her confident talk, she didn't actually know _how_ she was going to get rid of the soldiers that were stationed around the castle, especially since the large group that was in the courtyard.

For the moment, she and the children were crouched behind the gate on the far right of the main door in the castle. From where they stood, Rowena could spy at least 400 men, not including the ones that were actively patrolling inside.

"What do you suppose we do? None of us is trained in combat and even if we were, it would be impossible to take them _all_ on." Godric whispered quietly, his back plastered to the wall. Helga bit her lip nervously beside him. She'd never liked fighting and here she was smack in the thick of it. Percival coughed and Godric rolled his eyes. "Okay, no one except Sir Percival."

"Well, we did say we would take of them. If we don't do it before Morgana wakes them up, then we're done for."

Lianora thought back to the men that she'd knocked out in the throne room.

"Okay, well lets' try the throne room first, and see what we can figure out about the men that we took out. Clearly the witch is controlling them somehow, so if find out _how_ to get rid of whatever it is that she's using to bewitch them, we can do this much faster." The knight raised an eyebrow but nodded at her suggestion.

She put a finger to her lips and motioned for them to follow her, using the cloak to walk undetected down to the Great was a tight fit, despite the cloak's magical ability to resize, particularly because of Percival's bulky figure pressed behind her. Once inside and safe – relatively – Lianora spotted by the servants' exit next to the Thrones, the man she'd punched down just a while ago, somehow still unconscious. Salazar glanced around, seeing the coast was clear, he ducked out from the cloak against the whispered warnings of the others.

" _Salazar, get back here. You have to check if it's safe to come out first!"_ Godric whispered. Salazar waved his worry away, instead motioning them over. He'd pushed the hair on the man's forehead away, only to discover a symbol of a circle with horizontal line cutting through the upper third of it drawn onto him.

"What's that?" Helga said, crouching next to the blonde haired boy. Lianora kept watch, on edge while the children examined the mark. Percival, ever the silent man, stood watching behind them, ready for an attack.

"I've seen this before!" Rowena suddenly snapped her fingers, her eyes bright with understanding. There was nothing the knowledgeable girl loved more than finding out that the spells she'd painstakingly memorized were of some help.

"You have?" Lianora asked her, "well, what is it? Quickly, we don't have much time!"

"If I'm remembering it correctly, I think we're looking at evidence of a blood bond."

"A blood bond?" Percival echoed. Rowena nodded, confirming her guess.

"Yes, using blood to tie someone into doing your bidding through a spell of compulsion. I believe she must have used blood from someone else to cast it though. You need a certain _kind_ of blood."

"Did you ever read how to break it?" Here she nodded again.

"Using the same method to compel them into their own will. Like a reversal spell." Lianora raised an eyebrow.

"You're telling me she painted these poor sods with her _own blood_?" Rowena wrinkled her nose in disgust, her voice dropping to a whisper at the distant sound of metal clanking on stone and the distant thundering of what Lianora assumed was Merlin and Morgana going at it.

"Hardly. She's painted them with someone _else's_ blood. For a blood bond to work, the blood used has to be _pure_. As in, the blood of a pure maiden, someone who has never fallen in love, someone who's never experienced romance."

Godric blanched at the frightful thought that just crossed his mind.

"There's a full army walking these halls. Whoever she used for blood has _got_ to be dead. You can't drain this much blood and still be alive." Helga shivered, but fought to keep calm under the mounting panic from that night's events which were finally coming to the surface. Suddenly there was a hand on her shoulder and Helga looked over to see Salazar giving her a reassuring squeeze without looking at her. She sighed a little and tried to steady her erratic heartbeat.

Lianora rubbed her hands together, gesturing for the children to gather around her, expression thoughtful. Percival edged closer as well, unwittingly bumping into LIanora, who elbowed him in the stomach.

"Okay, so we need the blood of a pure maiden to combat this spell. So how would this work?"

"We would need to mix the blood with water, and use it to wash the marks away. But doing that to this many soldiers would take too long." Rowena flexed her fingers open and closed. Periodically stopping to listen for the sounds of soldiers approaching. The light streaming into the castle was bright and golden now, refracting all along the inside of the hall in zig zag patterns and illuminating it.

"Okay, well. I can't give you any blood, I'm far from pure at my age." Salazar made a face as they all tried not to think about it. There was another large boom from down the hallway causing them to jump. Lianora grasped both Helga and Rowena by the shoulders.

"So, at the very least we have the two of you young maidens to give blood." Helga's eyes grew huge and Rowena colored a very deep red.

" _IcantdothatbecauseI'mnotpure."_ The words came out in a mumble. Lianora and Percival looked at each other and then back down at the young girl.

"What?" Godric said, confusion marring his face. "Speak up, we haven't got time for muttering Ro!" The ebony haired girl huffed, her complexion taking on the color of cherries.

" _I said_ I can't give blood because I'm not pure." If it had been any other situation, Lianora would have laughed at the comical gasps from Godric and Salazar.

" _What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"_

 _"_ It's not theory of Magic, Godric, it's not that hard to understand. I'm not pure either. And there's nothing wrong with it." Rowena said haughtily, though she seemed embarrassed that they knew now.

" _Nothing wrong? I've_ _never seen you go within 2 feet of a man!_ " Rowena remained silent, refusing to answer that line of questioning while Lianora groaned in annoyance. Percival started at the sound of swords, swinging his own up reflexively.

"Why is nothing ever _simple_ with you lot? Alright, now isn't the time to deal with this. Helga is all we've got for now. So we've got to move fast. Rowena how much blood do we need exactly?"

"At least a couple drops." She didn't miss the blatant look of relief on Helga's face, and grinned. "Fortunately, the reverse spell is a lot easier than the casting of the original."

"Are we agreed then? Percival, go find water with Salazar and bring it back here, Rowena and I will prepare Helga for the bloodletting."

" _Blood-letting?!"_

 _"_ Oh hush child, it's nothing as frightening as it sounds."

* * *

" _Arthur!"_

Arthur heard Gwaine and Lancelot scream his name behind him as he leapt from the ledge of the tower, landing painfully and frankly very unsteadily on his broom. For a moment he hovered in the air, uncertain if the blasted thing would continue to float or if he was going to plummet to his death on the rocky foundation below.

He heard a blast up ahead, and looked up, trying to pinpoint the noise. Then, like a small bird, he spied Merlin's form darting in and out of the trees. The bird he was chasing would periodically turn into Morgana, who seemed to screaming things at him and attacking him in intervals.

He tucked his legs in and imagined he was riding on a horse, leaning forward and almost immediately, the broomstick responded, zooming ahead at breakneck speed. He would later deny that the shrill high pitched scream that escaped him was his at all.

* * *

"You have no right to your name! _Emrys is a champion for those with magic! How dare you sully with your loyalty to the Pendragons!"_ Morgana briefly changed back into herself, perching on a treetop to yell at him before transforming again and flying off.

Merlin fought the urge to roll his eyes, mainly because he was worried that if he took his eyes off flying for even a moment, he would end up sprawled face first on the ground.

"Whether or not you like it, Morgana. I am loyal to Arthur and I always will be. His injustices stem from ignorance and prejudice, unlike yours which carry nothing but a thirst for revenge!" Merlin yelled back, fed up with her one sided arguments. All of a sudden, Morgana reverted to her human form, startling him enough for him to try and fail to stop the broom he was riding. He gave a yelp and fell in an ungainly lump a few feet from the Dark Sorceress. Merlin scrambled to his feet, keeping eye contact with the clearly offended woman.

"The revenge that you turn your nose at _boy_ , is retribution for the scores of men, women and children who have _died_ and lived lives _worse_ than death as a result of Uther's rule!" Her eyes were taking on that glassy quality that Merlin was so concerned with. "If _I_ ruled, not only would our kind be liberated but we would make them see, make them _all_ see what it is to fear for your life. They will blame Arthur for their misfortunes. They will loathe the Pendragon name for eons to come!" Morgana ripped her cloak off and stalked towards Merlin who backed up a couple steps in response.

"You constantly berate me for swearing loyalty to a Pendragon and yet you use the _same_ identity to legitimize youre so-called claim to the throne. Why don't you just admit it, no matter what you do, even if you _kill_ Arthur, even if you kill me, it will never be enough. Revenge is a living thing and it will _devour you."_

Morgana's face went an apoplectic purple, and with a garbled yell of fury, she swung her hand in his direction and Merlin leapt out of the way just in time for the tree behind him to splinter into tiny fragments. Immediately, without leaving Morgana time to try something again, Merlin lashed back at her.

He stomped on the ground with his foot, the dirt underneath them rolling and roiling, undulating in waves. The Dark Sorceress fell to the ground, disbalanced, with a shriek as Merlin clenched his hand into a fist and brought it down on his other flat hand. Morgana screamed in pain and in response clawed at the ground, the dirt gathering under her nails. Her eyes flashed and Merlin went flying into the large stone behind him, his back colliding painfully with its pointed top. He let out a strangled scream that broke his concentration on the spell he was holding Morgana down with. As soon as she was able to, Morgana staggered to her feet. Her hair had fallen from its coif, tangled around her face, her dress was torn in various places and there was a sizable amount of blood dripping from her mouth. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, smearing it along her cheek instead, her face contorted into an expression of hatred so strong that Merlin was hard pressed to say when he'd last seen someone so angry with him.

Merlin slid down the side of the boulder after hitting it, he couldn't stand, and his shoulders were in agony every time he tried to move. Morgana approached him with the look of a wildcat approaching its prey. She raised her hand, lips twisting into a snarl, the warlock heard loud cracking from above and looked up in time to see a large pointed branch break off from the tree and come charging towards him., with him reflexively shutting his eyes. It was scant seconds before Merlin felt it pierce his left side, just above the hip, his injured shoulders making it difficult to raise his hands above his stomach in time to deflect with a spell.

"You will die here, you disgrace. I'm disgusted that the druids thought to revere your traitorous blood." She hiss in his face, coming closer to him, her maniac gaze telling Merlin that she was absolutely going to make sure he died here. He breathed heavily, using one arm holding the branch in place. He was bleeding profusely, if the pooling of blood beneath him was any indication. Morgana grinned seeing this and used her fist to drive the branch deeper into his abdomen, reveling in Merlin's gasps of pain.

"Merlin!" Merlin heard Arthur shout his name, and Morgana's head whipped around to look at his rapidly approaching figure. The warlock took advantage of the distraction, he lifted a finger with difficulty and with a grunt, pulled the branch out of his side, lurching to his feet, and driving the makeshift stake, coated in his blood, through her stomach.

Morgana howled in pain, eyes wide in shock as the branch buried itself in her body, her entire being assaulted by the foreign blood. She stumbled back, as she saw the King of Camelot flying to Merlin's aid.

" _YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS EMRYS. I WILL MAKE SURE YOU DIE A LONG AND PAINFUL_ _DEATH, TRAITOR!"_ With those wheezed words, Morgana stumbled back, turning once again into an eagle, the branch dropping from her but the wound remaining, and soaring off into the sky. Merlin raised an arm in a waving gesture.

"You -" Merlin coughed, feeling blood come up his throat, coating his teeth. "You do that, Morgana. I'll be -" He coughed again, the viscous liquid seeping from his mouth now. "-right here."

"Merlin!" Arthur was flying toward him and suddenly vaulted off, rolling a few feet on the ground before coming to a stop a small distance from the black haired man. Merlin grinned at Arthur, a look that from Arthur's expression, had him more concerned than reassured of Merlin's wits.

"Are you alright?"

"You came here riding on a broom." Merlin laughed, wincing from the blood now flowing freely from the puncture wound. Arthur shot him a dirty look, as he ran over, his face turning ashen as he took in Merlin's injury. He scrabbled down next to him, placing his hands over Merlin's and pressing down hard in an effort to staunch the blood, causing Merlin to yelp in pain. Arthur tried not to think about how he could see Merlin's insides _clearly_ gaping through the hole in his side and hear the obscene squelching his blood made against his flesh.

" _Gods_ Merlin. What – how – _there's so much blood."_ Merlin smiled at him, the sight of the crimon liquid staining the warlock's teeth red making his blood run cold.

"I -" Merlin sucked in a deep breath, gritting his teeth against the pain. "I am sorry you know. For letting Morgana get away – no let me finish -" Merlin staved off Arthur's protests. "For not telling you." His head thunked back against the rock. "For – _ah! -_ not telling you I had magic. Not telling you I was Elladora. You were so -" Merlin paused, biting his lip so hard it bled. "-so angry. I was too _afraid_ to see you look at me like you did before. Like you wanted to _kill_ me."

There were tears mingling in with the blood now. Arthur swallowed hard, the guilt crashing over him waves. Merlin lay back heavily, growing more pallid looking by the second. The implications of it terrified the young King, who forced himself to speak and look directly at Merlin's face – no where else.

"I never meant to do that. I just – I was afraid too, you twit. The man I thought I knew, turning out to be nothing like I thought he was. _I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry."_ Merlin gave Arthur another disturbing smile, looking bizarre in combination with the tears steadily coming down.

"Two apologies in one day? Are you going to confess to me next Arthur? I don't think I could handle that, honestly." Arthur gave him a half hearted glare.

"What have I said about trying to be funny? Don't make me have to hit an injured person because I _will_ do it. Now, if you're done mouthing off, we need to figure how to get you back to Camelot to get Gaius to fix you up, because I don't think I can get you back on the broom." They both glanced at the broom, now lying on the forest floor, devoid of Magic.

"Cover your ears." Merlin grinned wickedly at him, despite his waxen pallor. Arthur stared at him quizzically, before complying. He was momentarily distracted by the bloody state of his fingers before a pointed clearing of his throat had Arthur clapping his palms over his ears.

Merlin tilted his head back, and began to speak in a roaring voice, in a language that the King had never heard before, one that echoed in the forest. It raised goosebumps along his flesh and sent shivers down his spine. The speech was guttural and beastly and yet _elegant_. It took only a moment, but as soon as he finished, it was clear that it had taken all of his strength to do it, since he promptly passed out, his hands going limp over the gash and allowing blood to spurt out. Arthur clambered to cover it, concentrating on the action until he heard the sound of wings flapping and an answering roar to Merlin's earlier one.

He blinked against the sudden swirl of wind in the forest and saw to his shock, a _dragon_ land in front of them, splintering trees around them like twigs. He gaped as the creature lowered its head, getting an eyeful of the two men. Arthur's mind wrestled with his options. He needed to defend them, but without removing his hands from Merlin, since the warlock would surely die from the blood loss.

" _Peace, King. I haven't come to harm you."_ The voice was gravelly and ancient and it took Arthur a moment to realize the dragon was _speaking_ to him. The shock must have shown on his face, because it laughed, a low snuffling sound.

 _"You have many questions, and I shall answer them, Arthur. But first, we must get Merlin back to Camelot."_ When dragon lowered a wing, Arthur realized that it meant for him to drag Merlin up on to his back. There was a huff of impatience, and a small plume of smoke.

 _"We haven't time for dallying!"_

Wordlessly, the King dragged his unconscious manservant to the waiting dragon, praying for them both to whatever entity was listening.

* * *

Gwaine and Lancelot paced nervously in the fore lobby of the castle. Whatever Lianora and the small warlock children had done, had effectively released the soldiers from the enchantment, but it left a lot of confused men wandering Camelot's upper village, despite not exactly being the city type. It had taken them all to drive them out of the city, while constantly worried about their missing King and Merlin. Gaius had also finally found his way out of his chambers, with the coast finally clear.

In that time, Elyan and Leon had returned with Gwenivere, looking muddy but otherwise alright. The Queen looked around, not seeing Merlin or Arthur.

"Where's Arthur? Merlin?" None of the Knights responded, the silence terse. Lianora took it on herself to take Gwen aside, with the other two.

"We're not exactly sure, Your Highness. Last we saw, they headed off in the forest towards the Valley of the Kings, chasing after the loony witch." Gwen's expression grew scared, grabbing the taverness's hand painfully tight.

"Chasing -" She was cut off as an unearthly noise permeated the air. Looking up, they saw something that at first looked like an oddly shaped bird. But as it grew closer, they realized it was a dragon.

"It's the dragon!" Leon was aghast. "I thought we killed that thing!"

"No! It's Kilgrraah!" Helga cried, leaping up from her seat on the stone steps at the castle entrance. True enough, as the dragon landed, it was indeed Kilgrraah.

"But what is he -" Elyan never finished his sentence as the dragon unfurled his wing to reveal Merlin and Arthur, who slid down the flattened appendage until they landed softly on the ground. Merlin lay with his head in Arthur's lap, his face pale and white and his breathing labored.

"MERLIN!" Gwaine voice was rife with fear, running towards the two with Lancelot not far behind. He slid to his knees, stopping in front of Merlin, cupping his face and gasping at how cold he was.

"What happened?" They looked anxiously at Arthur, who still had his hands pressed to Merlin's side. Gaius came sprinting towards them, muttering and sighing alternatively.

"Oh my poor boy." He flinched, catching sight of the raw wound. "I've never seen anyone survive an injury like that." Gwenivere put a horrified hand to her mouth, while Lianora hugged the children close, seeing how terrified they were at the possibility of losing another guardian.

"You mean he's going to die?" Elyan asked, trying not to feel sickened by the sight of Merlin's insides spilling from sides.

" _Humans are such hysterical creatures."_ Kilgrrah spoke for the first time, startling all who stood before him.

"What?" Leon said, still wary of the beast.

" _Merlin is not going to die. The fates made very sure of that. The boy is immortal."_

"Immortal? With a great big gash like that?" Gaius addressed the dragon calmly, a thing the beast seemed to appreciate.

Kilgrraah seemed to find amusement in Merlin's predicament.

 _"Yes, immortal, Gaius. Oh the injury will hurt. But it will heal like any broken bone or scraped knee. He will be bedridden_ _for quite_ _sometime without help, but I am told that the younglings are well versed in the art of healing."_ Kilgrraah crossed his forearms and lay his head over them, closing his eyes.

" _Now someone must appropriate the boy to proper quarters where he may heal unhindered, and I shall wait right here for news of his recovery."_ With that, Kilgrraah closed his eyes, and promptly fell deep asleep. The rest of them looked quizzically at each other then shrugged.

Gaius sighed and then dusted his hands off, looking ready to get to work.

"Leon, Elyan, please fetch the stretcher so that we may bring him to his chambers. Children, I will have need of you as well, if you are as skilled in your craft as Merlin and Kilgrraah has said.

Arthur wordlessly stepped back as Gaius took over, using a fresh cloth to stop the bleeding and the other Knights helped lift Merlin up and carry him off. He hadn't realized it until Gwenivere grabbed one of his bloody hands, but he was trembling all over.

" _We almost lost him, Gwenivere._ " Arthur whispered.

"Except we didn't, Arthur."

* * *

It took two days and two nights of constant vigilance to bring Merlin's raging fever down to a manageable level. The entire time, Gwaine sat by the warlock's side. Wiping the sweat from his alabaster skin, wetting his parched lips with cool water, and bathing him daily with a wet cloth and basin of water.

The Knights came by daily, Elyan, Leon, Percival, and Lancelot. The King came as often as he could, stocking the physician's chambers with everything they could possibly need to hurry the healing process along. Gwenivere came every morning and every night, to put fresh flowers in his room and to bring them food.

His children bustled around constantly, changing the bandages every hour and taking turns chanting spells of healing over him. Now, on nightfall of the second day, Gwaine was alone in Merlin's chambers, sitting in the dim candle light and watching the man moan unconsciously in pain, sweat beading on his upper lip.

He could _just_ see the moon rising over the horizon, hovering over the Kingdom, as leaned forward to clasp both of Merlin's hands in his, resting his head against them.

"I have _so_ much to say, Merlin. So much to tell you." Gwaine whispered, his quiet voice sounding abnormally loud in the silence. "I wanted to tell you how _sorry_ I was, sorry for not saying anything the day we found out, sorry for not coming find you. For not recognizing you as Elladora." He stopped, swallowing against the feelings that welled up inside.

"It's going to be my biggest regret, seeing you run away like that and knowing that I didn't run after you. That I was too confused myself in that time to help you. I wish, I wished a thousand times, in that moment, to run away with you, to _make_ Arthur see you. For the man you've always been to him, regardless of your abilities." He sighed, closing his eyes, pressing his lips to the warlock's hands, doing it again and again.

"You have no idea what you've meant to me, Merlin. For the longest time, I saw no worth in myself, I drank myself into oblivion, stealing and fighting like a lowlife. You were the only one to show me what I _could_ be. Who I _was. You_ made me who I am today. A loyal Knight of Camelot. Loyal to Arthur."

Gwaine fought the tears of regret, of time lost.

"Loyal to you."

That was it, Gwaine couldn't hold the tears any longer, the moisture spilling down his cheeks, his shoulders heaving.

"You're completely mad."

The wry, weak voice made Gwaine's head snap up to see Merlin smiling weakly at him, tears in his own eyes.

"Merlin?"

"You have the entirety of Camelot and beyond, you have your pick of women _or_ men and you choose _me?_ " He laughed quietly, the action quickly turning to a cough. Gwaine quickly helped him drink a sip of water.

"Why? Why me?" He said softly, the words coming out as a groan as he settled back on his pillow.

Gwaine thought for a while and settled on one answer.

"Because you're Merlin."

* * *

Outside the room, Percival and Lancelot stood still, knowing that now wasn't the time to enter. They turned around, careful not to wake Gaius, and exited the physician's chambers, closing the doors softly. Lancelot was uncharacteristically silent on their walk back to the Knights' barrack's. When Percival hazarded a glance in his direction, and was surprised to the man's lip pulled taut, and his eyes suspiciously wet.

The larger man looked quietly away, knowing the look of heartbreak when he saw it.

* * *

10 days after he woke up, Merlin healed significantly faster. Though he had to move around with the help of Gwaine. He spent the most of his time in his own rooms at first, playing cards with Gwaine, teaching the children more magic or watching Gaius teach them about regular healing.

Every so often Gwenivere would come by, waggling her eyebrows naughtily at Gwaine and Merlin, causing him to blush uncontrollably and sending his Queen into riotous laughter. The one time Lianora visited, she spent the entirety of the time telling the most vulgar jokes which sent Gwaine roaring with laughter and Merlin going red in the face from both laughing and embarrassment.

By the time he was well enough to walk, he was able to go around the castle, assisted of course, and see how things had changed since he'd left. Arthur often had him come into his chambers so they could talk about everything that was left between them. Merlin explained his circumstances when he'd come to Camelot and the events leading up to the Griffin attack.

Some of his stories, well mostly his _failures_ in magic, were the most entertaining to him and Merlin often retaliated by pulling an errant lace or something similar with magic as revenge. Slowly they all grew used to Merlin's magical antics, even asking him for favors. In one such instance, Elyan asked Merlin to enchant a necklace to glow prettily in the daylight, a gift he was hoping to use to woo a young woman with.

Now, in a feat of victory in and of itself, Merlin found himself up on the castle balcony, the one where he'd once stood, telling Arthur he had to leave to go see his mother. Instead now, he stood with his King, watching the Knights of the Round Table train the new recruits. They were not going even slightly easy on the new ones, yelling instructions in quick succession. Merlin leaned against the stone railing, sighing contentedly as the wind blew across the Kingdom and through his hair.

"So," Arthur came up behind him, looking out over the training field.

"So," Merlin waited for Arthur to continue his line of thought as they both watched Lancelot run a group of men into the ground.

"I'm glad you're back." The King said simply, nudging the warlock with a shoulder. The motion told Merlin everything he needed to know. There was no longer hesitation between the two. Everything was out, in the open, and there were no more secrets.

"I'm happy to be back."

"What will you do now?" Arthur asked him, his blonde hair ruffling in the wind.

"I have four kids. I expect I won't be bored, that's for sure. "

"And Morgana's still out there."

"True."

At that moment, Gwaine looked up from the training field, locking eyes with Merlin, the wind blowing through his hair, and his eyes twinkling up at the sorcerer, making him flush red.

"Still, maybe there's time now, for a different kind of adventure." Merlin waved fingers, forming a butterfly glittered brilliantly in the sun. He sent it flying down to Gwaine, where it fluttered around himself, invisible to everyone else but himself. He laughed delightly at the enchantment, following it with his eyes as he sat down on the grass.

"A different adventure." Merlin echoed.

 _fin_

 **A/N:**

GUYS GUYS GUYS. ITS FINISHED.  
Talk Sense to a Fool is finally finished. My baby has grown up and left the nest !  
Thank you so much to those who commented regularly, (lookin at you Serendipty, mersan 123, 4Eirlys, Redrydinghood, IamWhoIAlwaysWillBe, MoonKishi, femalewhovian, ghostintheair, sniper0sniper and many more. I'm sorry if I can't name more but I LOVE YOU ALL) .  
Thank you so much for sticking with this story. Now, for the adminstrative stuff. I have two stories in the works, Merlin and his Queen, as well as Merlin's Redemption and the Discovery of Arthur. Would you prefer me to finish either of these, or start a new one entirely? Please tell me


	25. Epilogue:Revolting

A/N: Alright, let me tell you something. Y'all are terrifying. Haha, because of the, frankly, strongly worded private messages I've recieved for this story, apparently a LOT of people wanted to see more MerGwaine. Orginally this was gonna be a one shot, but again, cause y'all are TERRIFYING, I'm putting it with the main story. SO tell me how like it and if you'd like to see the rest added to this instead of separate stories.

 **Epilogue: Revolting**

Confusion was a constant state of being in Merlin's life. But when you're the subject of prophecies, Merlin supposed it was part and parcel of the experience. Now the confusion, it wasn't that he minded, it was more that he preferred that the confusion stay where he was used to dealing with it and not having it seeping into other parts of his life where it had no business meddling. One place he was thankful there was no confusion was outlook on his relationships with other people. There were the people who liked him, the people who hated him, and then there were those who could honestly swing either way on that topic depending on the situation. It was concrete, familiar even and he liked it that way.

Except that there was definitely something not familiar going on.

It had been a grueling seven years, seven years fraught with tears, fear, resentment, betrayal, reconciliation and love. Merlin wrinkled his nose, as he walked through the markets of Camelot, arms full of herbs and deep in thought, neatly sidestepping children racing down the walkway and vendors carrying produce.

Merlin hadn't thought he would need to worry about love, not after Freya's death. He was so sure that he would never fall in love again. But then Gwaine arrived and over hearing him tell Percival that he was in love with him had done all kinds of silly things to his head. Then when Merlin managed to go back to being Merlin, Gwaine had messed things up even more by kissing him. Regardless of the fact that it was hardly his first kiss, there was Gwen (the knowledge of that one he'd be taking straight to the grave - if he ever had a grave, the jury was still out on that one), and of course Freya, but the kiss with Gwaine was something he wouldn't soon forget.

However, it seemed that the perpetrator of the crime, Sir Gwaine of Camelot, had forgotten, less than a month after the kiss, Merlin was completely disregarded, well romantically forgotten. Merlin clenched his hands tightly on the sage cradled in his left hand. I mean what am I supposed to think? He just kisses me and then nothing.

It was mind boggling to think of. How could he? How could he kiss him? How could he just tell Merlin that he meant everything to him and then proceed to behave as if nothing had changed? Nothing puzzled him more than Gwaine's current behavior, not only was he the same as he'd always been but it seemed that Merlin could never get a chance to speak to him alone. They were never in the same place twice, and never without the company of either Arthur or one of the Knights. It was almost like Gwaine was avoiding him, though it wasn't as if Gwaine wasn't speaking to him.

He pursed his lips, deep in thought. Merlin wondered just what had gotten into the Knight, at first full of passion and then nothing, like the passion had never even been there. He was so preoccupied that Merlin was nearly bowled over when Godric bounded up directly in front of him.

"Master Merlin!"

"Oh whoa – Godric! Careful, I could've fallen and hurt you!"

Godric rolled his eyes, perusing his foster father's body up and down.

"Honestly, you'd fly away in the wind Master, before you'd be able to hurt me. You can't weigh more than a twig." Merlin thumped in the head with a fist.

"Oi watch it. I may not be as large as say, Percival, but I am more than capable of landing wee brats like you on their arses. Don't tell the King I told you, but I definitely beat him the first time we met. "

"He said he beat you."

"He's covering his own pride Godric and we must never deny a noble their right to their ridiculous pride." Merlin winked at the boy, letting him know exactly what he thought of Arthur's claims. Thinking of that however, only sent his mind hurtling back to Gwaine and his current predicament. It wasn't as if he knew what he wanted, per se, but he knew he wasn't liking the fact that he was being ignored.

"Let me guess. Your Knight-in-Shining Armor still hasn't bedded you?" Merlin's head snapped up and locked eyes with Lianora's mirthful snicker. She stood at the entrance of her tavern, propping the door open with her hip, no doubt airing it out before the tavern opened for business in a couple of hours. His ears burned red, and he grabbed Godric's head, placing his free hand over the youth's ear and smushing the other side into his chest.

"Lianora!" He hissed, mortified. "First of all, shut up there is a child here and second, who said I even wanted that?" Lianora's waved her hand dismissively.

"Oh lighten up you incessant prude. Godric's a big boy, almost 16. I'm sure he's had enough encounters by now."

Now it was Godric's turn to be mortified. He wrestled his way out of Merlin's grasp and shot a horrified look at the laughing woman.

"That is disgusting, Auntie Lianora."

"I don't hear you denying it, honey." The redheaded woman singsonged. Godric's eyes flicked towards Merlin's put his free hand on his hips.

"Don't be ridiculous Lianora. Godric would have told me if that were the case, wouldn't you Godric?" At the young boy's silence, Lianora's grin widened, and Merlin turned to his adopted son, nonplussed.

"Godric, You didn't -" Merlin never got the chance to finish as the young boy, backed against a wallm did the only thing he could think of. He turned and ran. Merlin stood there, stumped, in his regular attire, the brown trousers under a ratty blue shirt, red kerchief and slouchy brown coat. Despite all that Arthur had given him in pay raise since he now had 4 extra mouths to feed and clothe, Merlin still kept to his previous clothes, more comfortable in them than anything else. A snort from Lianora's direction had Merlin turning towards her, eyes shooting daggers at the woman taking pleasure in his pain.

"Oh shut up Lianora. At least have the decency to pretend that you aren't enjoying this." The woman winked at him, motioning for him to follow her inside.

"I'm nothing if not honest, boyo."

He grumbled under his breath, mimicking her as she crouched behind the tavern bar, setting up the ale tankards.

He sat down on one of the stools, his mind inadvertently wandering again.

"I'm right though, aren't I?" Lianora's voice was considerably softer this time, and when Merlin looked up to meet her eyes, he could only nod.

"It's not that – I mean don't get me wrong, I'm not waiting for anything." Merlin's pride refused to allow him to admit that he was, in fact, waiting for Gwaine to something, anything.

"Why don't you just ask him?" Lianora leaned over the bar, resting her elbows on the wood and her chin in her left hand. Merlin sputtered impotently, unable to come up with a dignified answer that wouldn't out him as the coward he was being.

"I can't." Well. Honesty was something wasn't it?

"Why not?"

"When would I do it? The man avoids me like the plague. I can't even get a second alone with him."

"You mean he's avoiding you?" Merlin shrugged, which had Lianora raising an eyebrow in question.

"Well, yes and no."

"It's one or the other. It can't be both." She slid a tankard towards him, holding up a pitcher of ale questioningly at Merlin. He grinned and slid it back towards her.

"Nice try, I can't be drunk this early in the morning. Try again tonight. Maybe I'll take you up on it." Lianora shrugged, setting the tankard back where she'd pulled it from.

"Can't blame a gal for trying. I still think you should talk to him, Merlin."

He gathered his sage to him and hopped off the stool, standing uneasily in front of the young woman, who could see how unsure he was. She smiled and leaned across the bar again and used one finger to beckon the warlock forward again.

"Listen to me you over sensitive numpty. Gwaine feels for you. Its not something you can just dismiss. Were or were you not present when that delicious Knight scooped you up and kissed you? During a giant sword fight no less?" Merlin nodded wordlessly.

"What ever is going on his head, it has nothing to do with whether or not he likes you, because I assure you he most certainly does." She finished, grabbing another tankard to wipe. When she looked up a few seconds later, she rolled her eyes.

"Well don't just stand there gawping at me, go." Merlin jumped slightly when she raised her voice at the last word and rushed out, sage clutched to his chest, thinking hard.

First, hunt down Godric, then deal with Gwaine.

Schedule set, Merlin made his way towards the castle.

* * *

It wasn't until a couple hours later that Merlin had finally extricated himself from the mess that had been Godric and his escapades and now, it was edging into that time where day and night inexplicably mixed. Merlin walked along the corridor that opened out onto the sparring fields in the rear section of Camelot's castle, and looking up, he could see the sky tinged with brilliant hues of pink, blue and just a touch of violent on the horizon, hinting at the darkness that chased the heels of the sunlight.

He wondered whether he was doing the right thing, whether Gwaine would want him to pursue this? What if whatever Gwaine had done was impulsive? What if it was something he wished he could take back? What would he do then? Would he ever be able to look at the Knight again without seeing Gwaine the way he had that day he'd woken up in his room, broken and yet with his heart in his throat, hearing Gwaine speak to him at his bedside.

What had happened? They had been fine when they were talking while he'd been bedridden all those weeks, when he'd first started moving again, learning how to walk even when his whole body was screaming for him to sit down, and they'd been fine when Merlin had finally been well enough to start working with the kids again, training them to use magic.

A sudden clinking sound drew Merlin from his own internal musings, and he looked down, realizing a button from his coat had fallen off. He knelt on the ground, to pick up the rusty metal circle, when a new kind of clinking attracted his attention and Merlin looked up just in time to see Gwaine, in all his wet, sweaty glory rounding the corner. It made Merlin's mouth go dry, the sight of him dripping wet, he was assuming from some kind of fight because he could see the vaguest tinge of blood dotting the corner of Gwaine's mouth and because the sword he was carrying was only half slid into its sheath.

When he finally made eye contact, however, with Gwaine, the man did something Merlin did not expect. He saw Gwaine literally freeze, eyes darting around, and then without even the smallest excuse of a greeting, the Knight spun on his heel and ran in the opposite direction while Merlin just watched, mouth agape.

And then suddenly, something within Merlin, he would never be sure what exactly, just snapped, gave way, whatever you wanted to call it, Merlin was finished waiting for Gwaine to make a move. As far as he was concerned, Gwaine had just made his move.

He'd never done it so blatantly before, even since Arthur had repealed the ban on sorcery but still Merlin, despite his misgivings, used his magic to apparate in front of Gwaine, much to the man's shock.

"Merlin!" The Knight unfortunately, had not the wisdom to anticipate this particular brand of Merlin's magic and therefore was unable to stop himself in the middle of his admittedly rather fast sprint. The impact from the collision sent them both stumbling onto the cobbled floor of the corridor. For a few minutes, it was a lot of tangled limbs and grunts and yelps of pain and when they'd finally managed to extricate themselves, Gwaine, huffing and puffing, but finally on his feet, extended a hand to help Merlin up.

"Need a lift mate?" He smiled at Merlin, previous fleeing apparently all but forgotten, which only served to irk Merlin more. The warlock took the extended hand and got up, but failed to relinquish his hold on Gwaine's hand.

"Gwaine." The knight looked at Merlin and Merlin could see the moment where it clicked for him and the moment in which Gwaine began to try and think of any possible outs to the situation.

"Stop," Merlin tightened his grip on Gwaine's hand, effectively trapping the man's attention.

"Stop, Just stop it, stop running away." Gwaine's brow furrowed a little at that.

"All you've done, this entire time, is run away from me Gwaine." Merlin was aware that he was quickly growing enraged, he'd been this way fewer times than he could count but was powerless to stop it regardless. Gwaine touched Merlin's wrist, now concerned.

"Run awa- Merlin, what are you on about? I'm not running from anything."

"No?" Merlin flung Gwaine's hand away. "You can barely look me in the eye, you avoid being alone with me and I can't get a second to talk to you seriously about US." The absolute confusion on Gwaine's face simply seemed to spur Merlin on in his growing fury.

"I - "

"I never asked to kiss me Gwaine. If you were having second thoughts or something -" Gwaine eyes were now fully wide open, in surprise. "Then it's fine, I wasn't going to pining after you like some girl. I wasn't going to -"

"Merl-"

"cling to you or demand that you love me -"

"Merlin - "

"I mean maybe it's the thought that I'm a man, the idea that you could do so much better could certainly have crossed your mind but fine, if you didn't want me any longer, all you had to do was just say it Gwaine. Not avoid me like some little girl." Merlin pushed Gwaine back a few steps and made to leave, only to be grabbed roughly by the wrist and bodily shoved up against the corridor wall, with Gwaine's hands bunched in the fabric of his shirt. The warlock could do nothing but stare, absolutely flabbergasted at the turn of events.

Now Gwaine was the one who looked more than a little incensed.

"Oh no, you don't get to lob all that at me and then just walk away Merlin." The warlock in question remained silent, unsure of how to respond to the frankly hostile tone in Gwaine's voice. Gwaine must have seen the apprehension in Merlin's gaze because his own softened considerably.

"It's not that you're a man. You know me. I've had men before." Gwaine flinched as soon as he said the words. "Alright, perhaps not the best way to phrase that. It's certainly not about me wanting you either. It's just …"

"It's just what?"

"It's you." Merlin blinked, perplexed.

"Me?"

"Yes, you, you buffoon. It's you with your big, stupid blue eyes, your stupid hair and that stupid, stupid mouth of yours."

Alright, now he was thoroughly out of his depth.

"I don't understand."

"Merlin, the first time I tried to hug you, when we were alone, you nearly jumped out of your skin. Like I was going to eat you." Merlin flushed. Oh, he definitely remembered 'd wailed about it to Lianora for hours. "And I just couldn't, I couldn't help myself, okay? I knew that if I was alone with you, it was only going to get worse and I didn't want to scare you off." The Knight was practically vibrating with tension, Merlin could feel it when his hands went from bunching in Merlin's shirt to bracketing the sides of his head.

"Scare me off?"

"Listen, it's not that I don't want to touch you, Merlin." Gwaine rested his on Merlin's shoulder, perhaps unaware or painfully aware of how his breath was ghosting over Merlin's collar bones in warm puffs.

"It's that I want to touch you."

Gwaine was still shaking, and Merlin realized what he'd missed before. He wasn't shaking in anger, Gwaine was shaking with restraint. It showed in the bulges of the muscles in his neck and the veins running down his arms.

Merlin reached up tentatively to touch Gwaine's bicep and felt the man tense up underneath.

"All I need is one word, Merlin. One word."

Merlin bit his lip, let his head fall back against the stone wall. It came out as more like a groan than he'd anticipated.

"Gwaine." The word was a breath, a silent admission of something that Merlin didn't even know he'd wanted and suddenly craved it with a thirst that he found hard to quench. So when something, someone, appeared to take his breath away, Merlin could do nothing but give and give and give. It was like he was melting, falling into something he couldn't explain, like he was being consumed and didn't care to escape.

And as with everything in Merlin's life. His other half of the coin arrived just in time to get in the way.

"Oh, oh for the love of decency, the two of you are revolting. "


End file.
